Little Brother
by Nyx6
Summary: Roman Reigns has everything mapped out. He's going to turn his father's failing gym into a functioning business and earn his seat in the boardroom. Done. What he doesn't factor in however is a scruffy teenage kid by the name of Dean Ambrose. But then again, it's funny how life works out sometimes. Plenty of protective Roman in this one folks!
1. One

**Okay, so here we are. New year (almost, might as well be) new fic!**

 **For anyone who read my** _ **Squeaker**_ **story then it's going to be kind of similar to that, with lots of hurt comfort and family support vibes only starring Dean and Roman this time. Lots of teddy bear Big Dog in this one and when I say lots I seriously mean** _ **lots**_ **.**

 **I'll post every three days as usual although might possibly throw the second chapter out tomorrow if anyone's interested. Let me know what you think.**

 **Happy New Year all (nearly!)**

* * *

 **One.**

The kid jumps Roman as he's locking the gym up, although in hindsight maybe _jumps_ isn't really the right word.

They're in a pretty rough part of the city however – the worst in terms of crime according to a report he's just read, which his mother had sent over in the post three days earlier with the relevant article highlighted in red – so it isn't _unlikely_ that someone will try and rob him but he's been working there five months and it hasn't happened yet.

His size helps – he figures – since he's pretty much all muscle and at twenty three years old is already inching over two hundred and thirty pounds. Then there's tribal tattoo sleeve down his bicep which protrudes from his shirt at both the neck and the wrist. In short he's pretty much a walking poster for _don't mess with me_ but he still sort of stiffens at the sound of the feet, soles crunching over the September dampened asphalt as someone steps in close.

Roman curls a fist.

It's dark already – winter fast closing in on them – but the chill across his shoulders isn't entirely from the breeze and nor is the prickling of hairs on his forearm down to just the temperature.

Roman's working on dread.

He turns around slowly, preparing to do battle but the person stood behind him doesn't look very mean and nor does he have any visible form of weapon or a balaclava covering his face. Instead the newcomer looks kind of _awkward_ which is hardly a surprise since he's just a teenage kid. Blue eyes dart up and then drop again quickly and following them Roman can't help but notice the feet. There's a great big hole in one of boy's sneakers that exposes a blue striped sock covered toe. The rest of the youth isn't dressed a lot better, with clothes that make him look a lot bigger than he is. They're wildly oversized and probably goodwill threads and the noodle arms are starkly devoid of a coat. Frowning a little in concern and bewilderment, Roman blinks across at him,

"There something you want?"

The kid looks up.

"Uh, this place yours man?"

"The gym?"

"Yeah, do you – like – _own_ it an' stuff?"

The answer is complex and so Roman pauses briefly, thinking it over before shrugging,

"I guess."

Of course the _truth_ is it belongs to his father and has done since he snapped it up six months before. Adding it to his lengthening portfolio of businesses in a tentative foray into the health and fitness world. Still, Roman _runs_ it which is what the kid is asking, so it isn't a lie.

The boy nods,

"Okay, cool."

"Cool _how_ exactly?" Roman fires back at him, because it's late and there's somewhere else he has to be. Chatting is not on his list of priorities and especially not with some kid he doesn't know.

"Just, uh – _y' know_ ,"

The teen drops his gaze again and scratches at his hairline with a loose and somewhat absent hand. His locks are overgrown in copper blonde colorings that are somewhere in the middle between dull blonde and brown.

Roman sighs,

"Look man, if you need something – ,"

But the teenager starts talking _ridiculously_ fast, the words falling out unabated and jerky along with disjointed and sort of clumsy as well.

"I wanna job – work here I mean. Wait, that didn't – that didn't come out right. Uh, m' not always good with – like – _words_ an' stuff sometimes. But I'll work crazy hard, I promise you I will."

Roman blinks, realization dawning slowly as the mile a minute sentence slowly curls around his head, unfolding like some sort of origami sculpture and unravelling into something more coherent,

"You want a _job_?"

Relief floods the poor kid's face like a storm drain and the blue eyes and a quirky little smile light up.

"Uh huh," he nods, "I mean, if you'll have me."

Roman blinks again.

Where the hell has _this_ come from? He can barely afford to keep paying the staff he _does_ have, most of whom still resent his father's sudden purchase and subsequently regard him as some harbinger of death. The last thing he needs is some precocious little street kid pissing off the workforce or – even worse – the clientele. Of course it doesn't help that the kid looks so damn _earnest_. The big pleading blues burning in through his soul. Roman squints at him and –

Wait, is that a shadow? Yep. The kid has a bruise around his eye. It's mottled and fading but he's taken a real hook to it, even though he doesn't really seem the fighting type. Not that Roman _knows_ him or anything, it's just a sort of feeling that he can't seem to avoid. It looks like someone has picked on him at some point and for whatever reason that makes Roman mad.

"You got a name?"

"Dean."

"Dean _what_?"

"Ambrose."

"How old are you _Dean Ambrose_?"

The blue gaze flickers,

"Eighteen."

Roman snorts in response to _that_ bullshit and rolls his eyes, grinning a little more than he would like.

"Come on dude, I ain't falling for that one. I got _milk_ that's been 'round longer than you. How old are you _really_ and don't lie to me this time. I ain't good at working with people who lie."

He realizes perhaps a millisecond after it's out there that he's probably managed to say the wrong thing, because those damn blue eyes grow eagerly wider and the kid shuffles forward,

"So, there _is_ a job then?"

 _No._

That's what Roman _wants_ to say anyway because realistically he needs to be shooting the boy down, but for some strange reason that isn't what comes out of him because instead there's that same demanding question on his tongue,

"Age?"

"Fifteen."

Which is even _younger_ than he banked on and brings another question.

"What about going to school?"

Dean gazes back at him, his shoulder vaguely twitching which triggers yet more anxious scratching from the hand. Briefly Roman wonders if the kid has got bed bugs but then settles on it being more a _nervous_ sort of thing. In fact he's so busy debating different reasons that he almost straight up misses the muttered response,

"I – uh – don't go."

"What, you mean _never_?"

"Well, not _lately_. Figure m' kinda done with it, y 'know? I mean, it's not like I ever got a lot from it anyway 'cept readin' an' writin' an' all that stuff I suppose. But m' not real good at – like – sittin' _still_ an' everythin' so I mostly got thrown out for _distractin' the class_."

He air-quotes the last part like he's heard it pretty often and doesn't believe so much as a word. Roman however, winces in response to it and pin-points the moment that the interview goes wrong. Not that it actually _is_ a proper interview and –

God damn it all, he needs to be strong.

"So you wanna enlighten me on why you wanna work here?"

Dean shrugs roughly,

"Need the wages, y' know?"

It's pretty refreshing in terms of standard answers and Roman can't help but smile wryly once more. There's no doubt the kid makes one hell of a first impression but whether that's a good thing he's struggling to tell. There's something else too though – beyond the brutal honesty – and Roman can see it in the hesitant blues. Dean looks kind of _haunted_ about something and it makes him frown,

"You owe money?"

"Uh, no,"

"So then why do you need it?"

Roman realizes he's pushing, but he's curious and in reply to him Dean shrugs,

"Just do."

For a second or two there is a hesitant silence in which Dean almost seems to fold in on himself. His shoulders rise up around his neck as the wind blows and he suddenly appears a very _vulnerable_ fifteen. Roman's eyes draw back up to the bruising and he falters. What harm can it do to throw the kid a bone? It's not like he needs to offer him a fortune and if push comes to shove Roman can fund it on his own.

He heaves a breath out,

"Look, _if_ I agree to this, we're gonna need to lay some ground rules out here."

The kid's eyes grow suddenly larger like saucers, his head snapping up from the damn hole in his sneakers and flooding with excitement that makes Roman warm inside.

"Uh, sure – yeah – I'll do whatever you want dude."

"First, call me Roman."

Dean nods,

"Can do."

"Second, this is not a job – not right off the bat here. We'll call this an apprenticeship and see how you go. You come in for the next week, work hard and keep your head down and when you've done seven days, _maybe_ we'll talk taking you on. That sound fair?"

Dean nods again violently, to the point where Roman fears his head might roll off,

"Uh huh, great, whatever you say boss."

Roman bites a snort back, finding the _boss_ thing not so cute.

"I'll need you in at eight sharp tomorrow morning, think you can handle that?"

He's almost hoping Dean says _no_. In fact he's damn near _willing_ the kid to look at him and complain about his lie-in, although that's not how it goes. Instead Dean merely gazes back like a puppy and keeps on freaking _nodding_.

"No problem bro."

Okay, so maybe in hindsight _boss_ is better and Roman shuts his eyes.

What the hell has he done?

He's employing a minor – which he isn't sure is legal but then again he's only been in management five months – to work at a gym which is basically failing and may not be around a whole lot longer as it is. But damn it the kid looks totally ecstatic, like Roman's just reached up and hung the whole _moon_. He can't take that back again now that it's been offered and he has to make his peace with it.

"Don't let me down."

Dean shakes his head so hard the bangs flutter and sling back and forwards like loose threads across his eyes. Roman even wonders how the kid can _see_ through them but then stops when he realizes he sounds like his old man,

"Don't worry du – uh, oh, I mean _Roman_. I'm gonna be the best worker you ever had."

* * *

 **So, there we have it, chapter one, thoughts?**


	2. Two

**Okay, so from now it will be every three days, just kind of wanted to break into this thing a little bit more early on and give another taster of the sort of thing that's in store.**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Now why would you assume I'm going to put them through the wringer? When have I ever done...uh...okay, you** _ **might**_ **be right!**

 **Guest, Ooh, glad I've hooked you already and don't worry, there's** _ **plenty**_ **more where chapter one came from...this little tale is gonna pretty run long!**

 **Cjmouthorp, Aww, well bless you for breaking your normal lurking habits to give me some encouragement, it really means a lot to me!**

 **Mandy, Well, not sure a** _ **good**_ **new year is really possible, but reading my lovely reviews always helps! Buckle up for this one, the hurt/comfort train is moving!**

 **Skovko, Oh wow, high praise, thank you. Might have to test you on that and write a load of nonsense in my next summary to see if you notice...although on second thoughts that might put others off!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Thanks, weirdly I've never been attracted to kid Dean stories and then this popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone...gotta feed the muse I guess!**

 **Ninjoy, Shield brothers bromance for the win always! Kind of go to town with it in this story too. Roman might be a bit of a cuddly hero throughout, but then he's Roman, so of course he is!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Yeah, poor Dean doesn't always have the social niceties down but he means well and luckily Roman is a pretty understanding sort of guy!**

 **Courtney681, Hey, glad you liked the start and with any luck, I can keep you hooked for the rest of it too! Thanks for the review, I really love hearing what people are thinking, it spurs me on!**

 **Time for Roman's folks and a little bit more background...**

* * *

 **Two.**

Wednesday night for Roman means dinner with his parents in a once weekly summons that cannot ever be ignored. They live in the same house that Roman grew up in, on the outskirts of the city well away from the rougher parts. _This_ neighbourhood and the one gym is found in are total damn opposites – virtual _poles_ apart – and as the rundown apartment blocks turn gradually to greenery and porches and driveways he feels his muscles unwind.

 _Home_.

Really in life he has little to complain about, particularly not in childhood terms. The days of his own youth were pretty damn peachy with everything he could have wanted, including food, clothes and love. Briefly it makes his mind wander to Dean again and he contemplates what the scruffy teenager's life might be like.

That hole in the shoe is still sort of worrying him as is the bruise that was in place around the eye. Perhaps the kid had gone looking for trouble and found it in a fist?

But it hadn't _felt_ like that.

Dean's shifty hesitance and hangdog expression had felt somehow _off_ but Roman doesn't know why and it's a question he is still sort of silently debating as he throws on the blinker and pulls up into the drive, noting that his three sisters' cars are there already which means he is last and therefore late again.

 _Great_.

His parents' house is a double fronted brick build in white with blue shutters and a _lot_ of Romanesque. His father likes to joke it's the reason they named him – for the columns on the porch and the pediment effect – but it sails just close enough to crazy to sound viable and so Roman has never been too sure it's all jest. More likely his name comes from his old man's desire to build a business empire to rival the classic realm, because although he hasn't yet invaded Macedonia, he's certainly conquering the corporate world. In fact the only blot in the glowing Reigns portfolio is the struggling little gym on the verge of shutting down.

That's why Roman is determined to make it work again.

He's desperate to prove he is born of the same mould.

His mother opens the door before he gets there and bustles out to hug him like she hasn't seen him in months. She checks his weight and cups his face gently before tutting at something.

He doesn't know what.

"Are you eating? Drinking? Getting enough sleep son? Goodness, you look _exhausted_."

"I look fine mom."

Because honestly he does. He looks no different but at this point it would be weird if she _didn't_ huff and fuss and so he lets her do it before trudging in behind her to join his other siblings.

The house is already packed.

Filled to the brim with sisters and nephews and nieces and hen-pecked looking brothers-in-law. Every single one of them goes through the same process although slightly less caring and more needling but who cares? It's still his family and it still means they love him.

He wonders if his new employee has ever felt that.

His father is installed in the armchair by the fireplace in the exact same spot that he nearly always is and folds up the paper he's been attempting to scan through while grandchildren scream and crawl through his legs.

"Son,"

"Pop."

It's an understated greeting but it suits their dynamic and so in that sense it works. Besides which the family patriarch is a quiet man and not one for hugging or wild affectionate displays. Roman has always figured it's part and parcel of being _old school_ and the belief that showing love is the ability to provide. In many ways he thinks that his father would be happy with some caveman dynamic where he could drag home a kill.

His old man loves them all – fiercely, _deeply_.

He's just never been good at telling them so.

"How's the gym going?"

Roman braces for the question, it having been the opening every week for five months. His answer in turn remains vague yet uninspiring but then the damn gym is failing so how else _can_ he respond?

"It's still there."

" _Hmm_."

The response is unhappy but then it always has been and so Roman doesn't let the hummed note wound him too much.

"Took a kid on though."

He isn't sure why he says it because they both know he's in no place to be giving out jobs, but in the moment it suddenly feels better than the silence and it gets a reaction – his father's eyes slide up,

"What?"

"Turned up tonight, had holes in his sneakers."

"So you hired him because he needed _new clothes_?"

His father sounds outraged or borderline incredulous or possibly a complex mixture of both. Philanthropy has never really been in his ballpark but for Roman the desire runs naturally strong. Possibly because he's been brought up by his mother who compensated for her husband's long hours at work with more love and kindness and sympathy than was measurable.

In personality and temperament he is far more like her.

"Nah, come on, I figure he can do stuff – odd jobs, cleaning, _grunt work_ , you know?"

"How old is he?"

Damn.

The one question he's been dreading and his options – conversely – are the exact same as Dean's. Either lie to his father or come clean about his status.

He decides on the latter.

"Kid's fifteen."

His father sort of blinks for a second and then huffs and sits back so Roman guesses it's not a thing. Having fifteen year old workers is obviously legal otherwise he would be in lecture city right now. Even so he can feel his father's crushing disapproval and moves to counter it,

"Hey, it's early days still, I can turn things around at that place, no problem."

Brown eyes hold him steady,

"You really think that, huh?"

"Sure, why not?"

His father sighs a little and then flicks out his paper as if he's reading it again which he clearly is not.

"It's just that _sticking things out_ isn't really your style son."

The words hit Roman like a punch to the gut and no matter how many times he has to go through hearing them, they will never not hurt a whole hell of a lot. These days though, they also make him angry because _god damn it_ how long will he have to suck it up?

" _Yes_ , I left college, alright? I had my reasons."

"So you keep saying."

"It just wasn't for me."

The newspaper flaps again tellingly harder and his father's face swiftly disappears behind,

"Could have mentioned that before your final semester."

"Maybe I was trying to avoid scenes like this."

For a minute there is a strange sort of silence between them, perforated only by the screaming of kids. Each of Roman's sisters has popped out three offspring and every single one is as unruly as the last. The place is a creche of rambunctious under five year olds, which his father pretends to tolerate and his mother just _loves_. It serves however as another stark reminder that in terms of expectations, Roman is _way_ wide of the mark. The girls of the family have fulfilled their obligations by marrying and bringing grandkids into the fold but for the only son the hopes had been far greater and by dropping out of college he had ruined them all.

Not that anyone has ever really asked him what in the hell _he_ wants to do. From his inception his future has always sort of been _written_ and these last few months have been happily unplanned. For the first time ever Roman feels in control of things – or, well maybe _not_ since the gym is on the outs – but in terms of himself and the direction he is moving he has never felt easier and that makes it worthwhile. So he takes the sniping and education-based bitching because in real terms it's the only impulsive thing he's ever done.

Roman is in charge of his destiny these days.

Okay, except for working at what is essentially his father's gym.

Briefly he wonders why he's even _employed_ Dean – out of kindness or to show to his father he _can_? It's only the second mildly _out there_ decision that the twenty three year old has ever made in his life. But it still feels right and so Roman stands by it and believes in it.

Dean will work out just fine.

Now he just needs to find a way to fix the business and the future can start to look a little more bright, which is easier said than done since he's tried everything, from rebranding, to deals for members and cutting prices in half. People just don't seem to want the gym like they used to and frankly – in that area – don't have the money to come. It's an uphill struggle but Roman isn't quitting and nor _will_ he until the day the closing signs go up.

Perhaps either sensing it, or else reading the expression, his father folds up his paper again, breathing out a sigh and pinching his eyes slightly before being the bigger man and letting it go,

"You're keeping well otherwise?"

Roman nods,

"I'm good pop."

"Put on more weight yet?"

"You mean muscle mass?"

His father chuckles because that's _not_ what he's referring to and Roman knows it and smiles as well. The men in their family – thanks to their heritage – are almost _renowned_ for being pretty large. _Meaty_ is the word that would probably best describe it and it is something that inspires a real wealth of familial pride. Within it is the much revered purity of their bloodline and the history of their origins and a mess of other things. In essence it's just another way he's broken with tradition but fortunately _this_ one is by no means a major thing.

"Muscle mass, _ha_."

His father drops down his paper, aiming for the footstool but managing to miss.

"Nice throwing _old man_."

"I'll still whoop your ass boy."

The patriarch is grinning and so is Roman,

"You can try."

Somewhere in the background his mother calls for dinner and his father waves a hand at his son,

"Help me up."

They amble off out towards the dining room together, with the older man's arm around his son's waist, pulling him close and letting him know despite their differences, there will never be anything between them but love.

Briefly once more, Roman thinks back to Ambrose and wonders if the kid is safe for the night. Everyone deserves to feel protected and sort of _cared about_ but his instincts are Dean doesn't.

He just hopes he isn't right.

* * *

 **So, at this point I'd kinda love to know what we're all thinking. What do we figure is going on with Dean and what do you think is going to happen? Are we liking Roman's parents (I certainly hope so, they figure pretty heavily!)**

 **See you in three days all, here we go again!**


	3. Three

**So Happy New Year everyone! Here is chapter three for your viewing pleasure (at least, I** _ **hope**_ **it's a pleasure! Guess the proof is in the pudding, huh?)**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Well, the good news is that one of your guesses about what's happening to Dean might be right...the bad news is, I'm not saying which*cue evil laugh then coughing fit***

 **Mandy, Aww, I'm happy to rock in the figurative sense, in the literal sense I just look really awkward! Glad this story is matching up to my others so far!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Bit of a slow-build, but we get into Dean's side of things soon enough. Tiny bit more ground work to go first though and yes, lots of clues!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, You know, it would be kinda fun to put little Lauren in, but not sure she'd fit in this universe...got some plans for the sequel though regarding girlfriends so watch this space!**

 **AngelsDestiny22, Ooh yay, I'm always trying in my own way to be original so glad you think this idea is. Also, thanks for saying** _ **intriguing**_ **and not 'crazy' which I admittedly also am!**

 **Cherry619, Hi, glad I've sucked you into another one of my madcap stories! Yep, poor mini Dean has it tough in this one (I'm wicked like that) but as for** _ **how**_ **, that's still to come!**

 **Ninjoy, You might be right on the** _ **Dean not safe**_ **front, but for now you'll have to go Roman's pace and figure this whole messy deal out with him. Glad you his family though, they come up a** _ **lot**_ **!**

 **Minnie1015, Aww, sorry you've been feeling ick but bless you for reviewing both chapters! Don't you worry either, the feels will be super strong with this one...you have officially been warned!**

 **Anne Carter, Hey there, thanks for reviewing, glad you're liking the start of things! No Seth in this one (couldn't make him fit) but a couple of other wrestlers are definitely involved as you will see…**

 **June3law, Hello *waves* Welcome to the party. Glad you're liking Roman's folks. His mom in particular is a total sweetheart in this story (like mother like son on that front I guess!)**

 **Stingerette1975, Welcome aboard! Thanks for reviewing both updates. Yeah, poor Dean definitely needs a safe space in this fic and friends, which you will hopefully start to see in this chapter!**

 **Onwards then...**

* * *

 **Three.**

The next day Dean is as good as his promise and is at the gym in time to watch the sun creeping up. It breaks across the neighbourhood like an artist's palette in washes of pink and creamy gold and just for a second the grim streets around him don't seem so totally unfriendly and cold.

Doesn't last long though.

Beauty there never does, because the next minute a car full of guys rolls past him, all of them pumped and hollering and whooping as the rolled down windows blast a bass line out. They yell something at him and he cringes into the doorway but then they simply laugh out loud and roll on.

Dean is still sort of _huddled_ into the brickwork when the days' first staff member finally shows up. He's a tall guy with muscles that bulge underneath his hoodie, which despite being fall is a sleeveless affair and that makes Dean feel a little bit better about also being without any seasonal attire. The guy has tattoos which dot across his biceps and chin-length rows of swinging braided hair. Honestly he looks kind of fearsome and no-nonsense and so Dean shrinks just a little as the eyes drift his way,

"Well who do we got here?"

The teenager swallows, the chirpy tones catching him wildly off-guard,

"Uh, I'm Dean."

"You waitin' on someone?"

"N-no, I work here – Roman gave me a job."

"Did he now?" The newcomer chuckles but it isn't a judging or a disbelieving sound, instead it seems tickled and it gives Dean the courage to nod his head mildly in confirmation,

"Uh huh."

"Yeah, well, that kinda sounds like our boss man, always tryin' to help a brother out. I'm Truth by the way, real nice to meet 'ya, why don't 'cha come in and I'll show you around."

He holds out a hand and Dean hesitantly shakes it, still half-expecting the guy to knock him down, but no, this Truth feller – because what a name _that_ is – seems totally legit and meek as a lamb. He unlocks the bolts while beat-boxing a rhythm and whether meaning to or not it puts the youngster at ease. The rush of warm air as he throws the door open reminds Dean just how cold the day is and so as Truth steps in, he scuttles along after and then plods at his heels a little like a dog.

Inside the gym is bigger than he's expecting because – honestly – he's not expecting a whole lot. From the outside the building is old and kind of _boxy_ and so he's always just pictured the interior as rundown. Instead however, it's light, bright and airy and even though it could do with a lick of paint and some money, it really isn't bad at all.

Truth goes around the place flicking the lights on and the unlocking doors, busy chatting as he goes. He talks about how long he's worked in the building – six years – he talks about his tearaway youth, he waxes lyrical about vitamins and supplements and then gets around to the subject of the boss.

"Roman? Yeah, real nice guy – _real_ nice. Folk around here don't like him all that much, probably 'cause he wasn't born and raised on the streets like we was. Plus his Pops is this big ol' important business type. But Roman? Nah, he ain't like that at all. I mean, you want proof? Look no further. He hired you right?"

Dean nods his head,

"Right."

At some point the pair of them end up in a supply room, with the older man muttering and sorting through some bags. Dean stands behind him, casting around curiously and with a million different questions racing through his mind.

Picking one he sort of _shifts_ just a little, hoping the words don't come out all wrong. He's got previous for managing to say things kind of frankly and he doesn't want to mess up his first day on the job.

"So – uh – _if_ Roman's dad is all rich and whatever, then why does this place, uh – ,"

"Look the way it does?" Truth finishes off for him then turns around grinning, holding up a dazzling red shirt,

"Well, yeah."

"Ah, see now, that'd be _business_ – a place like this gotta stand on its own."

He holds up the garment and checks the size against Dean's torso before shrugging and ripping the cellophane off. In a corner of the fabric there's an etching of the logo and Dean realizes with a lopsided smile that it's for him.

He gets to have his very own uniform.

He gets to be a real part of the team.

Theoretically it shouldn't make him so damn happy but it hits him hard with excitement in the gut. If he has the threads then he's a _definite_ employee and they can't rip it off him or take the job back. It's why he puts the thing on so readily – sliding it over his long-sleeve undershirt – and then stands back to briefly glance in the mirror.

Truth hums approval,

"Suits you boy."

"You really think?"

"Don't gotta think, I _know_ , now come on little feller, let's get you set up with something to do."

They start up with the unglamorous task of floor mopping before moving onto setting the gym equipment up, with Truth taking the time to talk him through the process and describe the apparatus and what each piece is for.

 _Elliptical machines_ , _weight stations_ and _lat pulldowns_.

Learning the names is a lesson in itself but Dean hears and pockets every scrap of information with a wide-eyed curiosity he never managed at school. Whatever Truth asks him to do he jumps on and so the first heady hour passes by in a blur. When Roman arrives at eight o'clock promptly, Dean is dragging heavy blue mats across the floor, spacing them out in neat lines for kick-boxing and using every ounce of concentration he has. It's why he jumps when the voice rumbles out at him, deep and ever so vaguely amused.

"Truth tells me you've been here since sunrise. How are you finding it so far?"

"Uh, okay."

He's trying to play down the fact that he's been startled but Roman can clearly see it as plain as day. The _Boss_ _Man's_ arms are folded over his pectorals but his face his easy and open and relaxed. Reaching across, he plucks at the uniform and smiles a little,

"Liking the shirt?"

Dean nods fiercely,

"Yeah, it's great man, I like the color and – y' know – it's all _new_ and stuff."

He doesn't mean for the sentence to sound so obvious but that's precisely how it comes across and he sees Roman's eyes dart down to his sneakers and feels his cheeks start to redden in return. He's never pretended to be something he isn't – with the exception of trying to pass for eighteen – which means he's never made out like he's wealthy, but at the same time he damn sure _hates_ being poor. It isn't as if it's something he can alter but nevertheless he feels the shame. Nothing he owns is as nice as his new shirt is and clearly Roman knows it, or at least, makes a guess. Thankfully however, seeing Dean's embarrassment he simply chooses to pass the moment by, clearing his throat kind of suddenly and roughly as he nods across the room,

"Truth been looking after you?"

Dean's relief is nothing if not palpable but he swallows it down and nods his head,

"Yeah."

"He's a good guy."

"He said the same thing about you, y' know?"

Roman lifts a brow up,

"Huh, is that right?"

They're on firmer ground now and so Dean relaxes into it,

"Yep, he says you're _real nice_."

"Anything else?"

"That your dad's some kinda _business type_."

Roman stiffens just a little at that, wondering how much his new employee knows about him but the answer is clearly _not a whole bunch_ since the teenager's attention drifts to wander the room again but with a lightness now like the anxiety has lifted off. Whatever the kid has to go through in his home life the gym is seemingly offering an out and Roman likes that and it bolsters his decision.

"So you think you're gonna last the rest of the week?"

The blue eyes flash back and Dean nods deeply,

"For sure man, for sure, I ain't givin' this up."

There's more that Roman wants to get the chance to ask him but they're suddenly interrupted by the banging of the door. A woman is striding in, a bag hung off her elbow and her red staff sweatshirt already shrugged on. Her hair is purple which seems blinding in the halogens and she's wearing glasses which she'll shortly take off. To Roman it's a scene he sees nearly every morning, but Dean's eyes almost bust out of his head,

" _Dude_ , who's _that_?"

"What, you mean Sasha?"

The kid's mouth falls open,

"I think I'm in love."

Roman chuckles then lets out a whistle, wincing at the same time as shaking his head.

"Careful uce, she's kind of a wildcat."

Dean frowns back at him lightly,

" _Uce_?"

"Oh, uh, yeah – ," Roman scratches at his neckline, not even realizing he's _said_ the damn thing, far less why, after months of inactivity, it would suddenly tumble out in conversation with some random kid, "Kinda means brother."

There's a blink,

"In what language?"

"Samoan."

"Is that – is that where you're from?"

Roman shrugs,

"Sort of. It's my heritage."

The teenager nods in return,

"That's cool. My whole family's from round here – kinda boring."

At the mention of relatives Roman looks up, curious to hear something more on Dean's background like who in the hell might have caused the black eye. Under the halogens the bruising looks yellowed but there are still purple streaks that cross the space like lightning bolts. More than ever he feels Dean's not to blame for it but there's no clear reason he can figure as to why. The kid just seems too happy-go-lucky and god damn _vulnerable_ to go around picking fights. Still, fretting about the _eye deal_ isn't getting him anywhere and so he tries to sound casual,

"Your family, huh? You got a lot?"

Instantly Dean's expression clouds over and he shuts down again, his answer muttered,

"No."

Clearly his domestic situation is off-limits but they are fortunately saved as Sasha walks back out, leaving the locker room with her contacts newly added which highlight the deep dark brown of her eyes.

Dean's attentions switch in an instant and his mood builds as well.

"Want me to introduce you kid?"

"What?"

Evidently Dean isn't even really _listening_ he's so busy staring at his new colleague in downright awe. Roman chuckles and shakes his head a little before bumping Dean's shoulder with his own,

"Come on."

He can't really miss the flinch the contact causes although the quiver is momentary and Dean recovers pretty well, seeing instead what his employer is suggesting and eagerly following hot on his heels. Still, the tiny little tremor had definitely happened and no doubt about it, the kid had been scared. It's a thought that doesn't sit too well with Roman but he pushes it aside as he strides across the room, catching Sasha as she's doing some warm-ups which emphasize her lithe figure only too well.

"You got a minute?"

The purple hair flashes as she flicks it across her shoulder, catching the light. Beside him Dean isn't really even _blinking_ and Roman bites back a grin at his expression.

 _Puppy love._

"That would depend," Sasha replies bluntly, her sharp rejoinder not a total surprise. She is one of the ones that doesn't yet trust him or the general takeover or the security of her job. Roman ignores her, pretty much used to it and conducts the necessary greetings instead,

"This is our new apprentice, Dean Ambrose."

The kid swipes his hand down his leg and then extends it,

"Nice to meet you."

Sasha reaches out and shakes his pinky distastefully, touching him like he might bite her,

"Uh huh."

Somewhere in the background, Roman sees Truth hailing him and so steps away from the romance of the century – one sided though it is – with a satisfying smirk,

"Be right back."

Sasha responds by glaring daggers but Roman merely grins and merrily strolls off, still beaming broadly as he pulls up beside the veteran before shaking his head mildly,

"What's up Truth?"

"That kid you got – ,"

"Ambrose?"

"Is he in any trouble? I just – I just get that whole kinda vibe."

The sentence is sobering along with Truth's expression which is miles away from his usual happy self. Roman lets a sigh out and gazes back over his shoulder watching as Dean tries his level best to score. He doesn't stand a chance and maybe not _just_ with Sasha.

Roman shakes his head,

"I don't know, but I'm 'a find out."

* * *

 **Had a rough day today peeps, so lay those reviews on me! Plus, how do we like having Truth and Sasha in there? Figured it was time for some different cameos.**


	4. Four

**So, we delve a little bit deeper in this one (or at least Roman does) and he and Dean bond a little more. Thanks for all the love this has been getting, means a lot.**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Hope you got some lunch on your break as well! Felt Truth was a natural fit here and Sasha, well, she** _ **might**_ **warm up! More Dean POV coming up but for now we're back with Roman…**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Couldn't resist throwing Truth in there since he seems the sort of guy a nervous kid would trust and Sasha's moodiness seemed a good counter, plus she's pretty badass as well!**

 **Skovko, All hail Truth (didn't plan to put him in originally but it came to me and I couldn't not throw him in) plus he seems** _ **adorable**_ **in real life, like a puppy. Glad you like him being there!**

 **Stingerette1975, Sasha just isn't into kids in this fic! Truth is just Truth so he's hyper and bouncy. Oh and don't you worry, Roman's invested in Dean already, or is certainly about to be…**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Whoop whoop! Glad you like the slow build, because when things happen they're going to start happening fast. This setting the scene stuff is the calm before the storm!**

 **Caz21, Hi *waves* thank you so much, glad you're enjoying it and are awaiting the updates. I'm pretty good at sticking to updating every three days so here's hoping you stick around for it all!**

 **Raze Olympus, Haha, no Dean certainly** _ **cannot**_ **get down and dirty with Sasha (don't think she would let him either, she's not impressed!) Glad you're enjoying it, plenty more to come too!**

 **Briana9898, Oh wow, thank you, that's so lovely to hear that you like my writing. As for Sasha? I thought it was only natural that awkward teenage Dean would crush on a girl he couldn't have!**

 **Minnie1015, Don't worry, Dean gets progressively more cheeky as we go along, although (because it's me and I love the angst) the poor kid certainly has his ups and downs! Thanks for the hugs.**

 **Ninjoy, Aww, I know, poor little teen Dean pulling on those heartstrings! Just as well we all know that Roman's a big teddy old bear too and will fix things eventually...** _ **maybe**_ **anyway!**

 **Cherry619, What fifteen year old kid could resist a woman with purple hair?! Yep, I'm drip feeding you information about Dean's life here, although you get more in this chapter. P.S. Yay for Truth!**

 **June3law, Dean definitely needs Roman, but yeah, I figure the big guy needs someone too, because he's too cuddly not to have someone to fuss about. I like him as a bulky mother hen!**

 **Mandy, Yeah, poor Dean covets anything new he's given (see next chapter for further examples...I know you will) Glad you're loving having Truth in there, he was so fun to write!**

 **Courtney681, Thank you, honestly my entire motivation for this story was lots of cute Roman and Dean moments, so expect a lot more! Super glad you're enjoying it and I hope that continues!**

 **Here we go with some (possible) answers...**

* * *

 **Four.**

Roman spends the rest of the day in his office, scanning through the paper piles stacked on his desk. Mostly they are bills which he has set up a file for and marked in bold black pen as _damn_. A lot of them are smokes and mirrors to scare him but a couple of letters are patently not. Instead they are deadly, unrelentingly serious and so go into a red-marked folder entitled _fuck_. Thankfully Roman doesn't have a secretary – as if he could actually afford one of those – so the cuss ordered filing system isn't offensive to anyone except his accountant and himself. One day he worries his father will sweep in suddenly and get a sight of the mess for himself but for the moment Roman's weekly asides have placated him and frankly he hopes that's a status that lasts.

Theoretically Roman has always considered that he has a naturally inherited business mind, honed from selling lemonade as a child and saving his allowance and watching his old man work. So he had sort of just assumed that by stepping into industry he would float pretty readily.

It hasn't been like that.

Running a business – especially a failing one – is an unforgiving and merciless task. His father would have already packed up and given in on it but Roman has staff and they have families and homes. The pressure of trying to make the place work for them has been his whole focus for almost six months, but no matter what he tries, what he thinks and what he implements, the customers stay away and the bills don't slow down.

His attentions are so focused that he doesn't even realize the day has slowly given way to the night and in the end it isn't until Truth raps the door frame that he finally clues into it,

"I'm headin' home boss."

"Okay, sure. Hey, thanks for opening up this morning and helping out with Dean today."

"No problem man."

"He get off alright?"

Truth blinks,

"Who? The little man? Couldn't make him leave. The brother's still here."

"He – ," Roman starts then stops in confusion, his heavy brows working first up and then down, "What, you mean he's still here _working_?"

The older man nods,

"He's out there mopping the floors."

For a second or two Roman merely stares back at him, working the turn of events through his mind. Realistically he hasn't issued Dean a finite _home time_ but he had just sort of assumed the kid would say when. Another damn lesson to chalk up to experience and he sighs a little and nods his head,

"Fine, don't worry about it Truth, I'll go talk to him."

"He's a real hard worker, learns quick."

"Glad to hear it."

"You picked a good one there boss, sweet kid."

He heads off after that leaving Roman with the paperwork which is actually starting to make his damn eyes hurt. _Eight hours_ he has spent hunched over the desk top and as he straightens up again his back cracks and pops. Technically it's time they were all getting home again and so he snatches his jacket off the back of the chair, groaning as he slides his keys into his pocket and reaching across to flip off the lamp.

Much as he was promised, Dean is in the main hall, dutifully moving a soggy mop back and forth. Roman stands and watches him for a minute, his eyes drifting down to the sneakers again. If it's possible – which it might be – the hole seems even bigger to the point where he expects the kid's foot to fall out. Narrowing his gaze he tries to gauge the sizing and guesses Dean to be about a nine. The kid is skinny and kind of short at the moment but there's a hint he's on the cusp of _beanstalking_ out, hitting some growth spurt and then launching straight upwards, much like _he_ had when he was sixteen. Roman waits until the kid turns to add more water, then steps in chuckling,

"Whoa, I think that's enough."

Dean jolts suddenly, like a deer in the headlights then blows out a breath and huffs a little,

"Scared me man."

"Sorry," Roman grins, lifting his hands up, "Guess I didn't know you liked cleaning so much."

"I don't – ," Dean slings back, "Well, I mean, not the normal type but this is – I don't know – 's _different_ somehow, kinda relaxin' tryin' to get it all shiny."

"Well, it is that alright. I could eat my _dinner_ off this floor."

The beam Dean throws back is both genuine and vibrant and in turn it makes Roman chuckle at him.

"You think?"

" _Yeah_ ," Roman nods, totally hamming up the emphasis before reaching out taking the mop away, "Now come on. You do this any longer you'll take off the wood stain. Boss' orders, alright? Time to pack up and go home."

In response to the directive Dean's face falls dramatically and for a second it's as if Roman's kicked the damn kid. Disappointment floods and engulfs the blue irises but mixed in is something else and it looks a lot like fear.

"Are you goin' home now as well?"

Roman nods at him,

"You realize I don't actually live here, right?"

He's going for humor but the attempt falls flat again as Dean drops his gaze and hauls a breath in.

"Okay."

"Look," Roman grunts, "Why don't I drive you home tonight? It's cold and you don't got a coat – ,"

Dean bites his lip down,

"Nah, it's alright."

But Roman is unflinching,

"Not a suggestion, 'sides, I need to meet your parents and make sure they're on board with this apprenticeship thing. So locker room, _go_. Change out of your work shirt then meet me out front."

He needs to see the kid's home.

Even so it takes about a quarter of an hour for Dean to finally shuffle outside, back in his threadbare _hand-me-down_ band tee and looking dispirited and kind of beaten up. In fact Roman suspects he might have actually made a run for it had his boss not been standing right beside the damn door, waiting to lock up but blocking his escape route until the kid has no option but to climb up into the car. Once he's there though he settles just a little because Roman _does_ have a pretty neat truck and glancing across he can see Dean's gaze brightening as he brushes an spellbound hand over the dash.

"This the new one?"

Roman nods,

"Special edition."

Although he winces as he realizes he sounds like a dick. There he is with a kid who can't even buy _sneakers_ and he's bragging about a pickup his father's money helped him with. Still, Dean doesn't seem to notice the blunder, stroking lovingly across the console in awe.

"I always wanted to drive one 'a these things."

Roman shrugs,

"When you hit sixteen, I'll teach you if you want."

Dean blinks back at him suddenly looking cautious, like his boss has offered something he can't possibly uphold. In response to it Roman keeps his gaze neutral, pulling away and hitting the road.

"You – you mean that?"

The big man shrugs,

"Why wouldn't I?"

There is a pause and Dean frowns,

"Why're you doin' all this for me?"

"Huh?" Roman asks, but he's not really listening because they're coming up fast on the end of the street and he has suddenly realized he doesn't know where he's going or where the hell his new employee even lives.

"I _said_ why are you doin' all these nice things for me?" Dean's tone has taken on a challenging note and this time Roman can't _help_ but hear the question and the buried one beneath it.

 _You some kind of pedophile or what?_

He splutters a little in a half-cough, half-inhale and spins his head to look at the boy. Dean's face is tight and his jaw is clenched fiercely and his fight makes Roman snort a little,

"The hell? _No_. Come on, I just – I'm tryin' to help you."

"Why?"

"Why not? I've got a nice life. Never really wanted for anything special but other folk don't have that so I'm givin' back, you know? I mean, you need a job so I've given you employment, you need a ride home, I'll give you that too. I'm not just some hard hearted business suit, alright man? I care about people. It's kinda my _thing_."

Fortunately the answer seems to settle Dean a little and his face sort of loosens as he sits back again. Probably he's just glad he doesn't have to fight him since in real terms there's very little chance he would win but evidently he is also carefully thinking because his next question is both cautious yet surprisingly clue-in,

"That how your old man is? Y' know – like – _hard hearted_? It's a left turn by the way."

The kid waves his hand and Roman flips the blinker,

"What makes you figure that? About my father I mean?"

Dean shrugs,

"I dunno, just – like – a couple of different things I guess, like the fact your workin' nine hours in an office at a crappy old gym 'stead of someplace up town. An' how the place needs paintin' and everythin' but there ain't a whole load of money floatin' round."

Roman snorts.

Truth had said he learnt quickly, but he had forgotten to mention the kid was also astute. As in damn near eagle-eyed and more curious than a kitten despite his education clearly going down the chute. Roman clears his throat a little awkwardly and shifts in his seat, not sure what to say, because while _he_ can call his father a hard ass, he's not sure he wants other people thinking the same thing.

"My old man he – he can be _driven_."

"Y' mean, workin' too hard and never at home?"

"Kind of."

Dean flaps a hand again,

"Left then a right up here."

"So what about you?" Roman shoots the question back at him – tentatively – as he makes the requisite turns, driving them deeper into the grim and rundown neighbourhoods where bullet-holes riddle the windows and homes.

"What about me?"

"What does your old man do for a living?"

Dean stiffens again as Roman figures he might do and so he keeps his gaze on the street-lamp lit road. The answer is quiet but then slowly grows in confidence and so Roman knows it's bullshit from that fact alone,

"He works nights in a factory, nothin' too fancy, which – uh – which is why he ain't gonna be in."

"Will your mom be home?"

Dean falters,

"It's just the two of us."

But this time it _isn't_ bullshit and there's a bitter little note.

Off the back of it Roman wants to ask about the bruising and whether or not Dean has any more, but then suddenly the kid sort of _shifts_ in his seat bodily and reaches for the handle,

"This is it, we're here."

"What now?"

"Uh huh."

Quite frankly Roman doubts that since they're driving down a street which is mostly pawn shops and a strip joint or two, but since Dean is all set on damn near bailing anyway, Roman pulls over and lets the kid out.

"So then, you coming back again tomorrow?"

Dean nods eagerly, blue eyes wide,

"You bet."

"I'll see you at eight then."

The teenager grins at him,

"Maybe, but not if I see you first."

Then he slams the door and plods off down the street a way before ducking off down an alleyway beside a tired shop. Roman sits and waits for a couple of seconds then consults his navigation system to see where the thing pops out. Sticking to the kerb he drives around the corner and – yep – sure enough, there the kid is, walking at double speed across the darkened asphalt and heading for what is clearly his _actual_ home. It's a good ten minutes from where he bails out on Roman and is a small and dilapidated two-storey house. There's a porch and a tiny little fenced in front yard and ostensibly it has the potential to look nice. Only it isn't _at all_ , it's downright oppressive and Roman watches with a sigh as Dean hunts for the key, standing on a three-legged chair to grope the lintel before he finally finds it and lets himself in.

No mother.

That's what Roman gets from their discussion but it wasn't said sadly like the woman had passed on, instead it had been said with resentment and anger like she had maybe just clean upped one day and gone.

Roman isn't entirely sure how long he sits there, but twenty minutes later another man stumbles in, tripping over three out of four of the porch steps and then fumbling drunkenly for a minute longer with the door. He lets himself in and then falls over something which he turns to boot with aggression from his path.

"Yeah," Roman mutters, as a light flips off upstairs like someone is pretending to be asleep up there, "Night shifts at the factory."

His fist curls on instinct.

He feels almost certain he knows who's hit Dean now.

* * *

 **So, there we go, one step closer to the truth perhaps? You'll just have to keep on reading to find out! Next chapter, Roman does something nice, any guesses as to what?**


	5. Five

**Have I mentioned how grateful I am for my reviews? I totally am, so a massive thank you all!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Yep, you definitely don't want to mess with Roman (or Dean for that matter because then Roman will hit you) but he'll have to keep a lid on it for a little bit longer yet.**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Got it in one on the** _ **Roman doing something nice**_ **front, well done you! As for more bruises? Well, you might want to read the next chapter for that! Dean is really in a bad situation.**

 **Stingerette1975, You** _ **might**_ **be right on all three guesses, but not all in this chapter (sssh, can't say anymore). We meet Dean's old man in the next installment...though you might not want to!**

 **Mandy, Aww, you're very welcome and thank** _ **you**_ **for always reviewing and making me feel like I'm doing good things. I write for me, but post in the hopes that people enjoy it and let me know!**

 **Minnie1015, Oooh, A+ on the guessing front, very good, gold star! Also, it didn't even occur to me to make his mother the bad guy (and here you were thinking I was being clever...turns out, nope!)**

 **Ninjoy, Stoked I caught you unawares with Dean's dad! As for the boys growing brotherly relationship? I** _ **think**_ **it might be the cutest thing I've ever written. Or I** _ **hope**_ **it is *crosses fingers***

 **Courtney681, Glad you liked it, I thought it was about time that we got a tiny little peek at what Dean's situation might be like. Even more of that coming up next chapter, hope to see you there!**

 **Skovko, Roman tends to say things then realize after that he's accidentally promised the world. Although we all know our big dog is going to stick to it. He's a such a big teddy (go Roman, go!)**

 **Cherry619, Ha, you totally got it in one! Obviously we all know what Roman is like! Things are going to escalate for sure though...you'll just have to keep reading to figure out when!**

 **June3law, Perfect guess! You guys obviously know me too well! As for what you think might be happening in Dean's home life? The next chapter should hopefully sort all of those questions out!**

 **Raze Olympus, Haha, you throw all those old memes at me, I can take 'em! Not sure Dean can hear you though or Roman, you know he'll get angry at some point. As for Sasha? She might warm up!**

 **Rebel8954, Roman is basically the best big brother ever (certainly in this, as I promise you will eventually see). Who wouldn't want a kickass, superman punching Roman on their side anyway?!**

 **Okay, so, time for Roman to be awesome and thoughtful!**

* * *

 **Five.**

The next morning Dean turns up bright and early and is already busy working when Roman arrives.

Truth is in the ring, sparring lightly with a client and Dean is in one corner staring wide-eyed through the ropes. There's a broom in his hand but he's abandoned any sweeping and is instead zoned in on the jabbing red gloves.

It isn't a surprise since most men love boxing with a primal sort of urge that is inherently handed down but in Dean's blue gaze there something almost _hungry_ and although the bruise has faded, Roman thinks he knows why.

The kid is still wearing the god awful sneakers though, through which Roman can now see _three_ damn toes and so setting his brow he crosses towards the teenager with a brown paper bag loosely hanging from his hand.

"Morning,"

Dean starts a little and drops the broom with a clatter before stooping swiftly to sweep it back up,

"Ugh, do you get some kinda _kick_ outta scarin' me?"

Roman thinks about it,

"Now you mention it, yes."

There is a grunt from the ring as the client reels away a step, reacting to a hook that his trainer has thrown. Dean blinks mildly and Roman wonders what he's thinking, but thankfully he doesn't have to ponder it for long,

"He's good."

"Truth? Yeah, he's one of the best man."

"What about you?" Dean asks, "Do you box?"

Roman shrugs,

"You know, I might step in there _occasionally_."

"Think you could train me?"

The question comes out of the blue and Roman pauses ever so slightly, not sure how to react to it,

"Uh, wow, I don't know – ,"

"Come on man, _please_?"

Dean is unashamedly pleading and Roman finds his memories flashing through the night before. Seeing the kid's father stumbling drunken up the porch steps – because at this point he assumes that's who the guy was – angry and burly and looking for a punching bag, possibly in the form of a fifteen year old boy. Roman again scopes Dean's left eye out. The one that took the as yet unmentioned hook. The bruising around it has pretty much faded but it's still shades of yellow that Roman doesn't like. He vaguely pictures how Dean might have earned it and his fingers curl tighter and rustle the bag.

"Maybe, we'll see – bring it up at your appraisal."

"I get an appraisal?"

"Everyone does."

"Even you?"

Roman snorts,

"Well, okay, not _everyone_."

Dean shrugs brightly,

"That doesn't seem fair."

In response to the teasing Roman raises an eyebrow and tries to adopt some sort of mock outrage look. It doesn't work well since it is tempered by the grinning and Dean grins back, glad he's made the boss laugh. Overall Roman likes the more settled relaxed Dean and the kid's personality and quirky style of wit. In a weird way it's like watching a flower unfurling or maybe something more manly like a swiss army knife.

"Yeah but who needs fair when you're in charge of the business?"

Dean hums back,

" _Hmm_ , you got me there boss. Anyway, what've you got in the carrier?"

To further his question the kid uses the broom tip to point in the direction of the brown paper bag. At which point Roman remembers he's holding it and takes a deep breath before offering it out,

"Bought these for you, I thought they kinda might work better than the ones you got on now."

Dean blinks,

" _Bought_? For me? So – what – this is like some sort of a _present_?"

Roman gestures loosely,

"Why don't you open it and see?"

Dean takes the bag like it maybe has a bomb in it and cautiously lets his eyes flicker up. It's possible no one has ever really given him a present or else maybe he's just not expecting one from the boss. Either way it takes approximately three seconds before he lets his curiosity win out and he drops the broom and hops up onto the ring edge to place it on his knees and tear the paper apart. Roman holds his breath as the carrier falls away from it and reveals the shoebox.

Dean looks up.

"Like I said," Roman offers, unsure of his silence, "I thought you could use 'em, you know, for work."

The teenager lifts the lid off very slowly and then the blue eyes widen like _saucers_ they're so large. For a second or so he simply blinks between the sneakers and his uncertain boss without any words at all but then he carefully dips his hand into the shoebox and pulls free a kick, turning it over.

"They're my size."

He sounds a little sort of dazed and bewildered which – frankly – also matches his face, but he isn't annoyed or offended or angry and so Roman feels he's dodged a major bullet in that respect.

"Yeah," he nods instead, "Be no use otherwise."

The blue eyes travel upwards,

"Can I – can I try 'em on?"

Roman nods again almost troubled by the question and the desperate look of _want_ he sees buzzing in the eyes.

"Sure, they're yours man."

The teenager wastes no time, damn near throwing off his own footwear and gently slipping the new ones on. The shiny fresh sneakers are real _top of the line_ deals with zippers, breathable soles and pseudo-science appeal. Dean slides his foot in toe by toe like he's nervous but once he's got them in his face says it all.

The kid is beaming and downright ecstatic and Roman grins too because that's something _he's_ done. He has taken the life of a poor beaten street kid and turned it into something with vague promise and hope. Or okay, so maybe that's a wild exaggeration but faced with Dean's expression it doesn't really feel like that. It _feels_ like Roman has done something special and given the kid a prized possession he deserves. Although surely shoes are more a basic necessity than some sort of trophy?

Whatever, it's done.

For the next few minutes Dean simply walks around in them, seemingly getting a feel for the fit. The newness of the treads makes them sort of _squeak_ a little – as all fresh shoes do – although it makes the teen laugh. It strikes Roman suddenly that perhaps Dean's never _had_ new and has always had to cope with wearing things second hand. It would certainly explain why the kid looks so damn reverent, although eventually he looks up,

"An' they're really for me?"

"Sure," Roman shrugs,

"As part of my uniform?"

"Or – you know – whenever,"

Dean's face falls again and he further startles Roman by sliding the shoes off and packing them up,

"Oh."

"What does that mean?"

"Then – then I don't want 'em."

Roman blinks astonishment,

"What are you talkin' about? A minute ago you were practically in love with them."

"That was before."

Dean hands the box back to him and Roman accepts it with a frown,

"Before what?"

"I can't – I mean, I don't want you buyin' stuff for me, I'm not a freakin' _charity case_ , okay?"

Roman understands it then all too clearly, but he's prepared for this because it's how he felt the thing might go down. So instead he tucks the box under his elbow and turns back towards the match still raging in the ring. He's going for casual and totally unbothered and he can see from the corner of his eye that Dean's stumped,

"Suit yourself uce, just doin' somethin' nice for you, can't _force_ you to have 'em now, can I?"

"Uh – ," Dean frowns in response, but he's stubborn and so shakes his head again, "No you can't."

"Well then," Roman shrugs, "I'll just give them to goodwill then. I mean, they ain't my size so it's not like _I_ can wear 'em and someone might as well get some use out of them."

Dean licks his lips,

"You're – you're givin' 'em away somewhere?"

"Might as well. Know someone that might want a pair of shoes?"

It's possible that Roman is being kind of mean to him but in the long run he figures that it's for his own good. Dean's eyes are following the box like a predator and he's wearing a look a lot like a hungry dog. The kid wants the shoes and what's more he damn well needs them, but his mule-like pride is holding him back. Reverse psychology may not be perfect in terms of getting him to put the things back on but it's the only solution that Roman can think of and so he forges on with it until the obstinacy breaks down,

"I – uh – ," Dean stops and scratches at his hairline, a sure-fire sign that he's feeling tightly wound, "Like _maybe_ I could wear 'em so long as I'm working, so the clients don't think I'm bein' paid down? Then change into my sneakers to go home again?"

He looks at Roman beseechingly, _desperately_ and Roman merely shrugs again,

"Sounds like a plan."

He hands the box back over and Dean launches at it, tearing off the lid to salivate at the things. Roman watches silently, grinning like an idiot and watching as the kid slips the smart treads back on. Up in the ring Truth has finished with his sparring and so he lazily, leisurely wanders across. Sagging against the ropes, he whistles down at the teenager and then nods in approval,

"You got some nice kicks."

"They're part of my uniform," Dean throws back happily, wiggling the shoes for him.

"Oh, is that right?"

"Roman just bought 'em for me."

Truth's eyes slide over and he smiles across with warm and knowing eyes at his boss.

"Did he now?"

"Yep," Dean nods, "An' you know what else he promised? That he's gonna teach me how to box."

 _Huh?_

Roman falters as the teenager just grins at him, also well versed in the _psychology_ thing. It means that life with Dean will be sparky and he blows out a sigh of resignation at it.

 _Alright then._

* * *

 **So, next chapter we get to meet Dean's father a little better, which is possibly not a very good thing. Okay, it isn't. It is actually a** _ **bad**_ **thing, especially for Dean… *moustache twirl and evil grin***


	6. Six

**Hold onto your hats boys and girls, this chapter is going to be rough, but will at least finally give us some answers! Also, your reviews give me life!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, He certainly wants to fight back and he's got Roman and Truth to teach him how now as well. Might be a race for who gets to hit his father first! There's quite a queue building!**

 **Stingerette1975, Luckily RAW is currently playing out that Dean is Roman's one weakness as well, so that feeds in nicely to this (thanks creative!) Basically, Roman is just awesome all round!**

 **Ninjoy, Yeah, tonight's installment is one where Dean is** _ **not**_ **so happy. But you're totally right, he is like a puppy with Roman! Glad you like Truth as well, so happy I threw him into the mix for this!**

 **Mandy, Aww, the pleasure is all mine. No really. At the moment writing is keeping me sane...or maybe making me more unstable than usual. It's definitely one of those things anyway!**

 **Raze Olympus, Oh my goodness, cinnamon bun is the cutest nickname for Dean ever...also, it has made me crave real cinnamon buns which is no good because everything is shut now...damn it!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Yeah, Dean is certainly looking to boxing as a means to an end rather than for fun. Hopefully you've stocked up on booze? May I suggest a tall amaretto and cranberry (it's amazing).**

 **Courtney681, Making Roman and Dean adorable here was pretty much my number one goal. Overprotective grizzly bear Roman is the purest thing in the world and I never get too much of it!**

 **Minnie1015, Aww** _ **you**_ ***bats hand coyly* I'm just glad you're enjoying it. I always want people to like my stuff but I'm even more proud of this one than usual for some reason. Also, Roman rocks!**

 **June3law, Roman has this mother-hen quality about him which poor beaten up Dean just brings out. Super happy you're still enjoying it, there's so much more cuteness between them to come!**

 **AngelsDestiny22, I certainly hope I'm doing** _ **teen Dean**_ **justice. He's pretty much the same as the grown version but a bit more timid with fewer muscles I think! So pleased you're still enjoying it!**

 **Skovko, You might want to take the** _ **cute**_ **thing back for this chapter (but it will be cute again)! Overall though, I just can't help the fluffies. Roman and Dean's friendship in any form is the best!**

 **Cherry619, *sings* I'm evil, my middle name is misery...ahem...anyway. When Roman and Dean's father meet it is** _ **not**_ **happy. But you have to wait a bit longer for that one! I'm evil, remember?!**

 **Deep breath and here we go...**

* * *

 **Six.**

Dean is so happy he damn near skips home that evening, or at least he _would_ have in any other part of town. Where he lives though, that shit's liable to get you shot at or beaten to a pulp or possibly mown down. So instead he settles for a giddy sort of half-run and makes it to his house in almost double time. Not that he wants to be back there – _ever_ – but the running is how he gets his happiness across, how he releases the pent up excitement so that when he finally hits the porch his cheeks are hot and red. He's panting too and his heart is sort of pounding but those are all good things and so he smiles and lets them go.

He lets himself in after tracking the key down – in the thick dust on the lintel where it's usually to be found – then slams the door behind him, still buzzing with excitement before dropping down his bag and barrelling brightly into the lounge.

Three unhappy faces glare back at him and he grinds to a halt and curses himself.

 _Crap_.

He'd been so caught up in _brand new sneaker_ happiness that he had totally forgotten to make sure the house was clear and as a result had burst in on his father and two random other people sitting slowly getting drunk.

Dean's heart seizes up and then runs cold on him, pushing icy pulses of blood through his bones. Usually his father likes getting drunk in bars somewhere but when he does it at home Dean well knows to steer clear, knows to clamber inside by a window or creep in like a ninja.

His body shivers in fear.

The two other men aren't people he's seen before but that doesn't surprise him in general terms. His father doesn't really have _friends_ in the real sense, more a sea of drinking buddies that move in and out. The chances are high that not even _he_ knows them. It's more likely he bumped into them and invited them back. Either way the two men aren't Dean's biggest problem, because although they are staring they don't scare him much.

No.

What _terrifies_ him are the blue eyes glaring over because although they're booze addled they're still oddly sharp and what's more the damn things are narrowed in aggression and Dean flinches at the sight of them,

"Did you jus' slam my door?"

The tone is a growl and Dean swallows visibly and shakes his head,

"I – I'm sorry, I didn't know – ,"

" _Did you slam my door_?"

The question is a bellow and Dean drops his gaze and nods mildly,

"Uh huh."

"You disrespectin' my house boy, 's that it?"

"I – I didn't mean to.

"Huh, damn no good fuckin' kid."

Quite honestly it's no better nor any more brutal than anything else Dean has heard across the years and so logically what he _should_ do is his usual thing and ignore it –

Only he doesn't and he isn't really sure why that is.

"Probably 'cos I've got a no good parent."

He regrets it the second that the muttered words are spoken because suddenly they seem almost impossibly loud, crackling across the lounge like god damn _fireworks_ and exploding in his father's furious looking face.

"What did you say?"

The words hold so much hatred that they actually make Dean's whole body flinch and the boy steps back and collides with the doorframe, banging his head against the woodwork.

 _Ouch._

Partly he figures his sudden bravado is the effect of maybe having a job, the knowledge that he is trying to carve a new pathway which doesn't involve his father or the house. But mostly he knows it's the impact of Roman who is by far and away the most alpha male he's ever met and yet conducts himself calmly and fairly and evenly and would doubtfully ever back down from a fight. For some strange reason Dean wants Roman to be proud of him and that manifests – fucking _stupidly_ – in standing up to his old man.

It is a very, _very_ bad idea.

For someone who has drunk – at least judging from the empties – somewhere close to eight bottles of beer, Dean's father moves almost scarily readily, positively _blitzing_ across the distance between them and grabbing him hard by the scruff of the neck.

Dean lets out a gasp of astonishment – although there's more than a little bit of terror mixed in as well – then lifts his hand to pry free the meaty fingers which merely makes his father start to tighten his grip. He's grabbed up a whole big hunk of Dean's t-shirt and is wrenching it so high he's almost throttling the kid and as the fabric untucks from the waistline of his denim, Dean's shudders at the feeling of cold air against his skin. Not that he really has much time to consider it because the next minute he's slammed hard against the doorframe again, complaining with a hiss as his spine hits the woodwork before being half-deafened by a furious yell,

"Don't you ever – _ever_ – talk back to me. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?"

The question is punctuated by another forceful slamming and Dean actually whimpers,

"I'm _sorry_."

"Are you hell."

Arms come up as Dean tries to protect his face this time but unfortunately that leaves his midriff exposed and as the meaty fist swings itself heavily into it, Dean can do nothing at all to save himself. Breath billows out of him like he's being deflated and he exhales so violently it physically _hurts_ , intercostal muscles complaining at him bitterly as he coughs and tries to gasp in more air. Meanwhile the pain of the punch filters up to him, adding to the spreading and hot sense of hurt. Underneath his ribcage his soft tissue caterwauls and throbs and rolls over bodily and _burns_. Senses jostle at one another in panic and his ears begin to whistle in loud shrill tones as well.

"When will you learn _boy_? I'm the boss around here. Y' got that _shit for brains_ , huh? _I'm_ _the boss_."

If the other two men in the room – their visitors – are unnerved by the violence then they plainly don't let on, simply sitting and watching the proceedings while occasionally taking another few sips of beer. Honestly it's like they are watching the football but it's a game with teams that neither man supports, which means they are curious but by no means invested and which _also_ means that neither man bothers to offer help.

Another fist hits Dean on the head as he slumps over, catching him hard at the base of his skull and it makes him so dizzy that he drops onto his kneecaps, fingers sliding down his father's thick legs as he goes. Still, at least it won't leave visible bruising and isn't it sad that his life has come to this? Counting as a victory the chance to hide his abuse marks? Because by now there's no denying that this is what they are.

"I'm the boss."

His father screams down at him and it's clear that he has some sort of hang-up on the point. Dean assumes that he wants to hear him say it and so stutters out the echo sort of _brokenly_ ,

"Y-you're the b-boss."

The words feel bitter on his lips and he hates them, but they vaguely seem to cool his father down. Grunting a little, the older man squats before him and then grabs his chin harshly to jerk his head up.

"Now say I own you."

Dean falters,

"You – ,"

He loathes this.

Hates it and detests it.

He doesn't want him to get his way.

" _Say it_."

"You own me," Dean bursts out frantically, wincing as the fingers round his chin grow fiercely tight. His father smirks and then suddenly lets go again and Dean's head drops like a stone onto his chest.

"Good, now get outta here."

The older man kicks him, using his boot tip to shunt the kid's leg.

Dean doesn't need any second invitation and drags himself away in a clumsy crawl across the floor. In terms of exits it isn't very glamorous but then he feels completely broken, so that's how he looks. Somewhere in the background his father sort of chuckles and so do his buddies.

Fuckers.

Each one.

Dean makes it out of the room on his kneecaps and grabs up the bag which he'd dropped in the hall. There isn't much in it – Dean owns nothing – but what _is_ in it is his and he needs it kept close. _Jesus_ is he glad he left his sneakers in his locker back at the gym or else they would have been gone. Sold down the river for alcohol money like their income, possessions and his father's damn _soul_.

"That's it boy, go on, run and hide now."

His father is grinning, loving being the big man.

Dean makes it onto his feet again unsteadily and then stumbles, tripping and gasping up the stairs. His bedroom is the smallest of the two but it's down the hallway and that tiny bit of distance somehow helps him to cope and he navigates shakily across the squeaky floorboards before staggering across the threshold and shutting the door.

Shutting, not slamming since he's learnt his damn lesson and the beating has taken the fight out of him and more. There's a key beneath the handle and Dean turns it hurriedly, listening to the _click_ and then letting himself fall, sliding down the door and landing on the hardwood while the breath rips clean out of him and his heartbeat and blood flow pound.

" _Ugh_ – ,"

The noise he makes is partly from the throbbing as his head, his chin and his solar plexus complain but it is also driven by the tears that are gathering, biting at his blue orbs and threatening to fall. With a hand across his middle, Dean folds down onto the floorboards and curls his legs up into a miserable little ball. Five minutes earlier – _five minutes_ – he'd been happy and now he's in agony and almost crying like a girl.

How did his life end up so in the gutter? Wait, he knows that. When his mother skipped town, running off with some guy that she had met at the _strip joint_ and who had somehow convinced her that she was in love.

For the first few months Dean had been optimistic and his father had been too. They had just _thought_ she'd come back. At the very least Dean had expected her to contact him because while she had never been a fairy tale mother she had never been uncaring or downright fucking _cruel_. Evidently however Dean hadn't really known her because she'd never so much as called him or ever _once_ looked back. Instead she had bailed and left him there with a monster, who had always been aggressive but had – from that point – _hulked out_. Almost from the day his mother's suitcase had gone missing, Dean had not been able to do a damn thing right and now here they were some six years later with his daily situation getting ever worse and worse.

Downstairs Dean hears another burst of laughter and it makes him draw his legs up tighter again. Somewhere in his mind he thinks back to Roman and the casual assertiveness and big _punching_ arms. Mentally he imagines his boss whaling on his father and although it comes from nowhere, it still makes Dean smile.

It's going to be okay.

He repeats the line over.

He has a job now.

He can save up and get away.

* * *

 **I know, I know, I'm a horrible person (Dean's dad is way worse than me though, right...** _ **right**_ **?)**

 **In other news since the chapters are shorter in this story, I've been toying with updating them every two days instead of three, but I don't want people to get fed up with this thing or get some horrible sort of reviewers fatigue so it would be great if you could let me know what your thoughts are. Until next time then...**


	7. Seven

**Well, apparently it seems as if people want this every two days, so that's what we'll do from now on then!**

 **Cherry619, Dean's old man definitely thinks he's got his claws in but luckily the big dog is on the case now, which means that things are going to get better...unless I make them** _ **worse**_ **before that?**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, True, one day Dean will be all grown up into the over six foot scruff that we all know and love! For this story though, he's not quite so bulky but still pretty cute (I like to think!)**

 **Stingerette1975, Roman will definitely** _ **want**_ **to break him, but that might not be the best approach yet, so you'll just have to keep on reading this baby to figure out what happens (I'm such a tease!)**

 **Ninjoy, Awww, the image of Dean as an actual puppy is simply too adorable, little waggy tail and all. But yep, his old man is a drunken mess of a father. Roman's reactions? Better read on...**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Oooh,** _ **perfect**_ **is certainly a word I like hearing, glad I seemed to get the tone right. There are some rough times in this story but I didn't want them to cancel the nicer stuff out!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Isn't Dean's father wonderful? No? Okay, not so much! As for his mother? Well I'm toying with a sequel so maybe she can pop up in that (I know, I'm super cocky, a sequel already!)**

 **Mandy, Thank you, going to be spending a lot of time in the hospital this week but hopefully after that the news will be good. Dean stories are my escape too at the moment so you aren't alone!**

 **June3law, Yeah, poor Dean has the parent situation pretty rough. Roman and the gym are definitely what he's holding onto, mostly because he has very little else (I'm so mean to him!)**

 **Skovko, Hmmm, well usually I charge extra for English languages, but since it's you...oh go on then, have 'em for free! Also, yep, you know me, the original heartbreaker (so sorry Dean!)**

 **Minnie1015, Yay! I thought I scared you off by being so mean to Dean! And now, just because I'm your favourite author, I present to you this chapter where Roman...well, you'll see!**

 **How long can Dean keep hiding what's happening?**

* * *

 **Seven.**

The next morning Dean is out of the house again before his hungover father is up, tiptoeing his way down the stairs in near silence and on past the lounge where the asshole is passed out.

For a very brief minute, Dean wonders if he's choked to death or drunken so much his black heart's given out. It probably isn't something he should actively be praying for but with every quiet second he hopes that it's true. The sound of a snore however ruins that prospect and so letting out a sigh, Dean heads out the door. Maybe next time though. Because there's _always_ a next time and after _that_ time they'll be plenty more. Not that Dean wants to end up in a kids home but some days he figures maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Days like this when his middle is on fire and lit up in shades of purple and dark blue.

Days like this when his damn head is thumping.

Days when he has fucking _nothing_ to lose.

He makes it to work in a bent-in-half shuffle which means he's not as early as he usually likes to be and also means that the locker room is busy with the rest of the workforce.

Dean grits his teeth.

Pretending to be fine when you're actually hurting is by far one of the hardest things to do well and although Dean has several years of expertise in it, he stills hates every second and every single fought down wince.

"Hey," Truth chirps as he pushes into the locker room and shuffles for his cubicle hoping to fly low, "Didn't fancy seein' the sunrise this morning, huh? Not like you not to be up with the birds."

Dean swallows down a sudden bark of raw agony as reaching for his locker pulls the bruise across his skin, stretching it and tightening it until the damn thing has a heartbeat and not his either but one of its own.

 _Ouch._

"I – uh – I kinda overslept a little."

Bullshit.

Pure bullshit.

He hadn't slept at all.

With his father downstairs laughing loudly with his buddies, his eyes had darted open every time he'd drifted off. Then at some point, there had been a raucous argument and the sound of tipping furniture between the three men. The lock on his door provided some sort of comfort but his father had busted it off before, so in the end all it ever did was slow the progression of skin meeting knuckle and fist meeting cheek. The only reason that Dean is still standing is down to his father having drunk himself out. Otherwise it would have been a very different story as Dean well knows.

But no one else does.

"Up late, huh?" Truth winks, nudging him a little and Dean can't help but awkwardly shrink back, "Never got around to talkin' about your love life. There a pretty little lady you got your eye on?"

Dean blinks,

"Uh – ,"

"I mean, apart from Sasha of course."

Purple hair flashes wildly in the corner and a voice cuts through at them, fierce and abrupt,

"Fuck you dude."

Truth lets out a chuckle in response to it, his white teeth flashing in an ear to ear grin that should probably start to make Dean feel slightly better but doesn't because at this point precious little can. His midriff is throbbing and pulsing beneath his t-shirt and the headache that has been pounding since his father first hit him is steadily beginning to blossom and build.

"Come on Sash, don't act like you don't love it."

"How many times do I have to say _shut up_?"

Around him the locker room is laughing and joking, setting the mood before getting down to work. Usually Dean sort of _revels_ in the chatter but this morning he's just trying his best not to pass out. Mercifully he manages to slip into his work shirt without either screaming or hitting the deck, although the worst part is that he can't wear his new sneakers because it's more than he can handle to bend down towards the lace.

"Not wearin' your new kicks?"

"Don't wanna get 'em dirty."

The lies work well enough.

Truth just shrugs.

"Doesn't make no difference to me kid, now come on and get out there – almost time to open up."

His first job of the day is getting the towels folded and brought up all clean and fresh from the wash. It's a pretty easy task for which he's stupidly grateful but not even that stops the constant _throb, throb, throb_ which pounds through his body a lot like a metronome and doesn't seem to want to give the game up.

 _Please stop._

Worse than that though is the building exhaustion which snakes through his limbs and strikes deep into his bones, turning them into steel or iron, something heavy and dense he can no longer pick up. His feet scuff wearily in a shuffle along the corridor and his eyelids blink clumsily in slow drags up then down. In a really weird way it feels like he's swimming through something thick and gloopy like tar or maybe clay because whatever it is he just doesn't feel _with_ it.

Maybe he's concussed?

Internal bleeding?

He isn't sure.

Which is probably the reason that he bumps into Roman – as in literally, physically bumps into the guy – as he stumbles round the corner with an armful of towelling which promptly tips out of his grip onto the floor.

"Whoa," Roman breaths out, "Sorry uce, I didn't see you."

Dean blinks mildly.

There's that _brother_ thing again.

"Uh, 's okay, wasn't watchin' where I was goin'."

"I'm not surprised, could you even _see_ over those things?"

He's gazing down in obvious amusement at what _was_ Dean's careful stacked tower of towels and Dean frowns back before dropping to his haunches, scooping up the first one,

"Yeah, I – _crap_ – ,"

The pain explodes through him both fiercely and readily, lancing his system and stealing his breath. Air pours out of his lungs and he hisses, his hands on his abdomen and his eyes squeezed tight shut.

"Dean?" Roman's palm comes down on his shoulder and he flinches on instinct and tries to back up, "Are you okay? Easy, I'm not gonna hurt you. What's wrong? Is it your stomach?"

The big hand reaches out, brushing aside his trembling fingers like they're nothing and pressing very gently over the bruise.

"No, don't – ,"

Two words.

Those are all Dean can manage before the pain shoots back through him and he once more cries out. This time though – embarrassingly – hot tears also escape him and trickle down his cheeks as he fights to paw them off.

Everything suddenly feels too much to cope with.

The pain.

The worry.

He can't do it anymore.

Roman blinks back at him noticeably startled and that more than anything else adds to the shame. The last thing he needs or wants for that matter is for the boss to think that he's some sort of loon and so frantically Dean tries to struggle to his feet again, sniffing and grimacing.

Firm hands hold him down.

One of them reaches up and palms his nape gently, the big broad digits draping over his neck, but unlike his father the touch is reassuring and accompanied by deep tones,

"Easy, easy uce."

"M' _not_ your brother," Dean sniffs pathetically and Roman smiles slightly,

"Well, maybe not by _blood_ but I like to think of this gym as a family, which makes you kid sibling."

Dean gasps a little,

" _Hurts_ – ,"

Roman draws a breath in,

"You want me to take a look at it?"

Dean blinks.

The boss doesn't even know what _it_ is. Although saying that there's something in the gaze which seems knowing and he wonders very briefly if the older man has guessed.

 _No._

Dean grunts.

He's always so careful. He spends his _life_ hiding the evidence away. Wearing long sleeve shirts right the way through the summer with jeans and hoodies and oversized threads. How could his boss have worked out what's been happening?

When and where and fucking _how_?

Of course, all of those musings are lost in an instant as Roman peels up the hem of the red shirt, inching it up with Dean's under garment and keeping his gaze both steady and firm.

Dean murmurs weakly,

"Don't – ,"

"Easy," Roman answers, working on repeat, "Won't hurt you, alright?"

The bottom of the fabric is almost lifted up anyway and in his pained and weary state Dean figures –

 _What the hell_?

Not that he doesn't still tense up visibly as the true extent of the bruising is revealed, drawing an actual inhalation from Roman which the bigger man then follows up with a growl.

"Who did this?"

Dean shrinks back ever so slightly, alarmed by the fire he sees in the eyes,

"I – uh – ,"

He doesn't tell anybody _ever_ so this is way more pressure and direct questioning than he likes. Visions of being dragged off into foster care flash through his head and make him shudder and rethink. Because although his father is an unashamed asshole his home is where he's just _always_ lived. Maybe he's not the type to make it in the real world and if he tells the truth now then that's something he'll find out.

He isn't quite ready for sink or swim yet though.

He's only fifteen.

He's also fucking scared.

Seeing it – possibly, Dean's not sure on that one – Roman looks up and runs a hand through his long hair, using the movement to ground himself slightly and ease off on the anger,

"You'll need ointment for this."

"Ointment?" Dean blinks, not expecting the sentence,

"To bring down the bruising."

He falters again,

"Oh."

For some reason he'd been expecting Roman to blow up at him like the salient adult in his life would have done and so he's thrown by the fact that Roman – well – _doesn't_ and also in the way he's so pragmatic and calm.

"Come on."

Tugging the shirt back so no one else can see the bruising, Roman reaches down and slowly helps him to stand. Dean rises onto his feet again slowly and then casts around absently,

"What about the towels?"

"Forget them," Roman grunts, putting an arm around his shoulders and using it to guide him, "Someone else can pick them up."

They head for the office which is a crazy mess of paperwork but there's a couch in one corner which Roman points him towards. It's the sort of leather sofa that's been there since time started and is horribly well sat-on but comfortable as well. The second his ass hits it Dean lets out a grumble and the exhaustion sweeps in and bubbles back up.

" _Mmmm_."

"Any other hidden injuries I should know about?"

Dean shakes his head at him in weary bliss,

"Nope."

He figures there's no point in mentioning the head knock because the big guy would only worry and he seems panicky enough. It's nice though, having someone that seems to genuinely fret for him.

Truth was right.

Roman _is_ a nice guy.

Dean blinks heavily and he feels himself swaying but he springs to attention before he fully passes out. Roman is watching him, angry but not _at_ him and that's nice too.

"Stay here, alright? I'll get some first aid stuff."

Dean nods blearily at him,

"Alright."

His flinches briefly as Roman puts a hand out, ghosting it through his copper blonde locks. Usually Dean hates any uninvited touching but – maybe because he's so tired – the tousling feels good. Brotherly and affectionate and a million things he's been missing.

"You'll be okay, uce."

Dean lets his eyes slide shut.

* * *

 **So, Roman knows now. Good or not good? As always I love hearing what you guys are thinking, so hit me up and let me know!**

 **Happy weekend all!**


	8. Eight

**I do hope we're all ready for some touchy-feely Roman, because here he comes with a vengeance!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Thank you, this week is going to be stressful but once it's done, I hope that will be it...and yes, safe to say that Roman isn't happy as the second paragraph I think makes clear!**

 **Stingerette1975, Haha, I forgot that quote! Dean** _ **does**_ **like his Roman angry in this story and expect Roman to be a lot more protective and big brother-like from here on out!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Well, this story certainly gets tougher but Roman is going to do his best to not make things worse, including going in all guns blazing, which would probably backfire pretty fast!**

 **Ninjoy, Don't you worry, this whole story is basically Roman masquerading as a gym owning superhero (no cape though). Dean's walls come down more in this chapter too. Hope you like it!**

 **Irishfan62, Come on, can't have a dramatic story without a bit of drama! Although I like to think in this one all of the mean stuff I do to Dean is outweighed by the cute brother stuff yet to come!**

 **Cherry619, Right now Roman is trying to be sensible and not knee-jerk because he's worried about making things worse, but in a couple of chapters he might not have that option *dangles carrot***

 **June3law, Roman is a total superstar in this story, with the patience of an actual saint! He doesn't want to rush Dean on anything but is definitely there for him...as (I hope) this chapter will show!**

 **Minnie1015, Don't worry, there's still lots more to come!** _ **Ugh**_ **, I pray daily that Dean pops up fully healed from out of nowhere within in next couple of months! Shield v. Balor would be great!**

 **Mandy, Thank you, it's my mum this time (I've been there, done that) but this week is going to be pretty tough. This chapter is very much Dean and Roman central so I hope you like it!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Oh no! Feel better (sends across healing thoughts and cake because cake solves all) Thank you for saying it feels realistic, our poor Dean is very messed up so it's going to take time!**

 **Raze Olympus, *Provides seatbelt* You may want to strap in because big brother Roman is out in sickening, threatening, hugging and hair tousling force for the rest of this story. My weakness!**

 **Skovko, Yep, poor baby Dean has his list of lies all perfected to a fine art by this point. He tries again in this chapter as well, but Roman ain't buying 'em this time...go big dog *waves banner***

 **Rebel8954, Totally, as much as Roman wants to go crazy, he has to try and think smart about this thing, hopefully that's what he does in this chapter. Fingers crossed the rest of you agree!**

 **Sodapop25, Oh wow, thank you very much, I'm glad I've dragged you into this crazy thing and hooked you! There's plenty more to go, so I hope it keeps on delivering. Thanks for your review!**

 **Time for some serious talking between our boys...**

* * *

 **Eight.**

By the time Roman returns some ten minutes later with ice packs and pain pills, Dean is already lost in sleep. Sprawled across the couch almost like he's been dropped there and frowning very mildly but reassuringly at peace. The sight makes Roman breathe a pent-up little sigh out and he stands for a second just trying to take it in, the medical supplies hanging limply from his fingers as images of the bruise climb over his brain.

 _Fucker_.

That is the first proper word he can conjure although the brutal assessment isn't remotely aimed at Dean. In fact it's not a term that Roman often _uses_ – his mother hates swearing – but it seems to fit in. Someone – some _fucker_ – has put his fists on Dean's stomach and turned it into a rainbow of hurt. Driven their knuckles right into his body and done it hard enough to leave a row of tiny marks.

 _Shit._

The sheer anger of the whole thing bubbles up inside of him but there is helplessness mixed in and guilt there as well because Roman knows who has done the punching doesn't he?

He had seen the way that Dean's father had stumbled in.

He had _also_ made the stupid decision not to mention it and not to push Dean too far or try and force him into explaining his home life. Well _that_ has backfired on him. Pretty damn spectacularly and now the poor kid is exhausted and _so_ hurt.

Growling a little in an instinctive exhalation, Roman turns and levers shut the office door, sealing Dean away from any prying glances in what essentially amounts to an overprotective _wrath_. It's funny really, the urge to defend him. Roman doesn't even really know where it's _from_. All he knows is that there's some internal part of him that wants and _needs_ to shield Dean from harm. A part of him that is fond of the kid's chatter and shit-eating grin and god damn chirpy smirk. Nobody deserves to be beaten by anyone, least of all the one person in the world they should trust. But more than anything _Dean_ shouldn't be taking it for no other reason than –

Well, because he's _little uce_.

Crossing the room about as carefully as he can manage it considering that he is _not_ a small guy, Roman presses an ice pack against the t-shirt and then winces hoping not to wake the sleeping boy.

" _Nuh_ – ,"

Dean's face screws up in sleep briefly and he shifts a little but otherwise stays gone. In the grey light of the office his face looks sort of _haggard_ which it shouldn't do – not on a fifteen year old child. The recovering black eye looks more mottled and harsh again and Roman bites his lip.

Dean hasn't even healed from _that_.

Hasn't been allowed to let his body recover before having to submit to the next vicious hit.

The thought of it makes Roman pace around the office to stop himself from hitting the wall which he'll likely regret. Not to mention the fact that it will probably wake Dean up which defeats the whole purpose of having him there safe and so instead Roman forces himself to sit down to his paperwork while occasionally glancing up over his desk.

Absently he wonders how many hours the teen has gone without getting in a fairly decent run of sleep, which is probably a lot given he lives with an asshole who is willing to beat him senseless several nights of the week. For the poor kid the simple act of self-preservation probably comes well above getting some rest which in _itself_ is heartbreaking and shocking –

But Roman knows now and he won't let it carry on.

In total Dean probably sleeps for two hours, which Roman considers to be a good sign. If the kid is settled then on some level he must trust him, or else his poor body is just too exhausted to stay awake. Still, Roman likes to take it as acceptance, which is why he springs upright as the copper blonde comes around, groaning a little and twisting on the cushions before hissing as he re-ignites his blooming bruise again,

" _Crap_ – ,"

"Hey," Roman sounds, moving quickly across the room to him, "Take it easy, you're still banged up."

He sort of assumes that Dean will remember the events that had gone down before he'd sparked out, but judging from the confusion which laces the expression, the kid simply _doesn't_ and is pretty damn scared.

"Wha – why – ,"

The blue eyes swing round wildly, settling first on Roman and then the ice pack on his ribs. He twists again as if he wants to get out of there which again tugs the bruise and makes him wince. Not wanting him to hurt himself, Roman crosses the distance and puts hands on his shoulders,

"You're okay, just stay there."

It doesn't really help since Dean jerks away from him, but he doesn't outright bolt which Roman hopes is a good thing. He still looks wary though, so the older man backs up a pace before dragging over a chair and then calmly sitting down,

"Easy uce, you fell asleep, remember?"

Dean blinks,

"I – I did?"

"Yeah, been out two hours now."

"Huh."

The noise Dean makes is sort of surprised sounding but gone is the alarm, well, most of it at least. Instead he seems to be working on comprehension and Roman sees the moment that the memories return, the blue gaze filling with a certain sort of _stiffness_ before sliding across cautiously,

"Dean, it's okay."

"'S not."

"How isn't it?"

He wants to ask _what isn't_ but stops himself firmly, choosing the much safer _how_ route instead. Dean vaguely shifts a little in response to it, his gaze falling earthwards,

"I'm – m' all messed up."

"Yeah," Roman nods, "Wanna tell me how that happened?"

Dean bites his lip,

"Walked into a door."

"Uh huh," Roman can't help the note of disapproval, "Must've been one of those big doors with fists since you got a nice row of knuckle marks along your stomach."

The teenager pauses,

"I – got into a fight."

"With who?"

"Just some people."

Roman draws a breath in,

"Sure it wasn't with your old man?"

For a moment it seems as if _Roman_ has hit him because the teenager actually _physically_ reacts. Worried blue eyes widen almost to capacity and Dean's fingers contract around the cushions and turn white. He's staring at Roman but he isn't really _looking_ because he's still busy turning things around in his mind, searching for an exit, a way to avoid the question, a means of escape –

He's breathing too hard.

"My – ," Dean stumbles, trying to play it off a bit but hampered by the breathlessness and obvious alarm, "My dad, n- _no_ , why would y-you say that?"

Roman doesn't answer him, well, not _directly_ because he's opened this can of worms now and he's going to see it through.

"It's okay uce, you don't have to lie for him."

Dean tries to squirm away a bit,

"I'm _not_."

"I saw him drunk when I gave you a ride home that time."

The teenager's expression grows dark,

"You _followed_ me?"

"I was worried – ,"

"You had no fuckin' _right_ to do that."

"Maybe not," Roman sighs, "But I know what I saw."

" _Nothin'_ ," Dean spits but _wow_ is he panicking, like a cornered wild animal, "Nothin' okay? He – ,"

But rather than listen to what are clearly more excuses Roman suddenly reaches his hand out, moving instinctively and dropping it down again, not on a shoulder but on the copper blonde locks. Dean shuts up instantly, his whole body tensing and he sucks a frightened breath in but doesn't try to fight out.

"Easy uce," Roman murmurs at him, the words slow and steady, "It's okay, it's alright."

For a few more tense seconds the teenager sits frozen and utterly immobile under his palm and Roman begins to mentally curse himself for being too much of a god damn teddy bear and doing something which is freaking the poor kid out. Suddenly however, everything changes because without any warning the harsh faces crumples up, Dean releases an exhalation of emotion and abruptly leans forward to bury his head into his hands,

"I don't know why he hates me so badly."

It's a whisper, but Roman hears it and takes a chance on it,

"Your dad?"

Dean doesn't answer but then again he doesn't _have_ to because they both of them know who he's talking about. He does say _something_ though, or mumbles it into his fingers but the words still manage to break Roman's heart,

"I'm such a screw up."

"Hey, no you're not Dean,"

"Yes I am, I ruin everythin', not even my _mom_ cared enough to stick around for me."

He isn't crying but he's probably damn near it and so Roman cards his fingers through the hair, tousling the strands like Dean's some sort of Labrador and grumbling soothingly,

"That wasn't your fault, none of this is your fault, you hear me?"

"Has to be – ,"

"Nope," Roman repeats, "Not your fault."

There's another long moment in which neither one of them says anything and it's hard to read Dean's face since it's buried in his hands, but finally and suddenly the blue eyes creep upwards, studying Roman with a measure of bewilderment and huffing a breath out,

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because," Roman offers, "You're a good kid, alright? Who doesn't deserve all the bad shit he gets. I mean, somebody needs to be there to look out for you and since you're outta options here, I guess that _somebody_ would be me."

Dean blinks back at him like he's processing the statement, then snorts wryly,

"Nothin' you can do."

"I can get you out of there."

Dean reacts with horror – as in _genuine_ horror – which quite honestly is the last thing that Roman expects. Stupidly the older man had anticipated gratitude or any damn emotion other than what he gets. But then again the situation is complex and ugly so why shouldn't Dean's feelings be the same?

The kid shakes his head,

"No, don't want that."

"Why not?"

"Because of foster care and all that shit an' I just – I _can't_ – ,"

Roman's voice is quiet,

"I can't let you go back there."

"Why not?" Dean's eyes flash, "Been doin' it for years. Got kinda _good_ at it too for the most part. Slipped up last night but I – I learnt from that now. Seriously, I got a lock on my door and everythin' and he's mostly just drunk and passed out someplace, y' know?"

His boss sighs heavily because that isn't reassuring – any of it – in fact it makes it all mildly _worse_. Dean shouldn't have to be living fucking _anyplace_ where he's dodging an alcoholic and locking himself in his room. But then again Roman hasn't considered the alternative, which the teenager in front of him evidently has.

The social care system.

Are those odds much better? Roman glances over and figures probably not. For a moment there is a pause as each one waits for the other and in the stillness Roman's brain sort of pivots and ticks.

"Just a couple more years dude," Dean offers quietly, "Just a couple more years. I made it this far."

The blue eyes are pleading but also pretty knowing which reminds Roman starkly that he's in Dean's world now. Abuse and beatings, those are Dean's existence and the older man is a newcomer who's just pitched up in town. What the hell is he even to supposed to _say_ to him? How in the world is he fixing to help? Fighting down his anger, he draws a long breath in and his brown eyes flicker up unflinching,

"Okay look, _if_ I don't say anything to anyone, then you've gotta do me a favor as well."

Dean nods emphatically,

"Anythin', I'll do it."

"Whenever he touches you, write that shit down – write down when and _why_ he hit you and then you come to me, do you understand? I'll patch you up and take photos for evidence because if something ever happens you'll need those sort of records to back you up, does that make sense?"

Dean blinks, comprehension dawning slowly,

"So it doesn't end up being my word against his?"

Roman nods,

"That's right. So, we got ourselves a deal here?"

The teenager draws a breath in, debating his few options before nodding,

"Yeah, we got ourselves a deal."

In the paper strewn office Roman puts a hand out and Dean does the same and meets his in a shake.

"You promise me you'll tell me? No hiding that shit, alright? Can't help if you don't tell me what's going on. Now, there's one more thing we need to get started – getting you all trained up in that ring."

* * *

 **So, what do we think of the deal the boys have struck here?**

 **Plus, as always, thank you so much for your reviews, I'm only 15 away from 100 so I would love to smash that if possible this chapter *grabs and bear hugs everyone***


	9. Nine

**Giving you a smattering of Roman's backstory in this one, and the boys do a bit more bonding. Truth's back too!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Never fear, I have this story all in hand. I can't promise that it will always be plain sailing (yeah, totally won't be) but I've got my captains hat on and we're full steam ahead!**

 **Skovko, *Cups ear* did I hear you say that Roman needs to start training Dean up quickly? Well, look no further because your wish is my command! Also, yeah, few more bruises here and there…**

 **Minnie1015, Aww, thank you m'dear, always love reading your reviews. The deal is not Roman's worst idea ever (not yet anyway) but yeah, things are going to go bad at some point soon…**

 **Sodapop25, Short of an alien invasion (oh god, I hope I haven't tempted fate with that) I will always keep posting until a story is done. Thank you so much for reviewing, it means a lot.**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Roman is very much trying to be logical throughout this whole thing because he doesn't want to scare Dean off. Dean's father? You'll have to keep reading but he's not done!**

 **Mandy, Thank you, bit of a scary time but my writing helps. I'm so glad it helps you as well to read it, because it pushes me to be better and create even better stuff. Big brother Roman is the best!**

 **Stingerette1975, Well, things definitely change at some point, but I don't want to give away when or how! You're right though, poor baby Dean needs some help and needs to trust the big dog!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Sorry you're still feeling poorly, that sucks. Big brother Roman is the best medicine in the world and he isn't going to let Dean hide anymore. Btw, um yeah, things will get worse!**

 **Ninjoy, Dean's just a poor scared little baby and he's not used to trusting people, but he's opening up slowly (in this chapter too). Things are going to get worse before they get better though!**

 **June3law, Thanks! Roman is ridiculously patient, even though he doesn't really want to be! He starts learning how to fight in this chapter and gradually that trust starts to build a little more.**

 **Guest, Wow, not sure I've ever had anyone dream about a story of mine before! Thank you for the compliment, I'm super glad you're enjoying it. The boys' bond gets better and better. Stay tuned!**

 **Wwe21, Roman will definitely be helping Dean more in the later chapters, in a big way too! No Seth unfortunately, just couldn't make him fit into it! Hopefully I can make up for that though!**

 **AngelsDestiny22, I know, but it wouldn't be a story by yours truly if Dean wasn't in trouble somehow! Glad you like the deal, it's going to get more involved as we go along!**

 **Ding, ding!**

* * *

 **Nine.**

Dean takes to boxing like a duck takes to water and Truth is more than happy to help the kid learn. Both he and Roman stay late a few evenings and put the teen through his paces on the bags but what he _really_ wants is to get between the ring ropes and so on the third night they let him do precisely that.

Dean is positively bouncing like a _child_ as he stands between on the canvas watching Roman strap up his gloves, pumped and raring to start jabbing his employer and _buzzing_ with excitement.

"Come on bro, come on."

 _Bro_.

That had been an interesting development and Dean's counterpart to his own nickname _uce._ It had fallen out – seemingly without the kid knowing – for the first time about two days before but since then he appeared to have been steadily employing it and it makes Roman's family-oriented heart sort of _swell_.

There haven't really been too many more bruises and those that have appeared Dean has told him about, sticking faithfully to his side of their agreement while Roman documents them carefully and in turn sticks to his. There's a bruise on Dean's wrist from where his father has grabbed him but it's faint and Dean assures him that he managed to twist out. Then there's a purple bloom on the side of his shoulder which is garnered from having to brace his bedroom door shut. Roman doesn't like hearing the details of what's happening but frankly he'd rather know them than not and so he simply sits and tries to stop his growing anger whenever Dean shuffles in to tell him what's gone on. For his part the kid sort of _eases_ himself into it by stuttering awkwardly and scratching at his head. It's obvious he's never told anyone about his life before and so he's shifty and apprehensive.

But he _does_ it and that's good.

Watching him dance eagerly now, Roman grins at him and shakes his head a little as he clambers through the ropes,

"Alright uce, just cool it down a notch, huh? You need a clear head for this kinda stuff."

Dean nods back and then centres himself zen-like, bringing the boxing gloves together in _prayer form_ and then slowly balancing on one leg like a flamingo,

"You mean like this?"

Roman snorts,

"Well, it's a start."

Truth nods from ringside,

"Lookin' good kid, lookin' real good."

They start by touching gloves very briefly – which Roman tells Dean is an etiquette thing – then get down to the business of sparring, albeit it slow and steady as he gets used to the ring. Roman can see in Dean's eyes that he's eager and no damn wonder with what's waiting at home. Dean is in a hell of a rush to get match ready but he's too keen which means he's likely to botch. Truth can see it too and so they throw out constant orders, correcting his jabs, his concentration and his stance.

From the frown on his face it's obvious Dean's trying and Roman briefly wonders if he's ever worked so hard, whether there was anything in school the kid had ever tried for or whether boxing lessons mark the most studious period of his life.

Because that's what he's like –

Dean is _literally_ sponge-like, inhaling every last tip and each barked out order and complying in an instant as he shuffles around the ring.

Roman lets the kid get a couple of early jabs in – well – _more_ than a couple but it _is_ Dean's first time besides which he needs to feel like he can do it and stand up for himself against his old man. Not that boxing is an overnight solution but in time Roman hopes it will give the kid the edge, allow him to duck, weave or _lay out_ his father if the teenager ever needs it, which Roman thinks he will. Also boxing is a cure for Dean's nervousness and the twitchy energy he carries round. Overall Roman just wants Dean to be safer and if that means sparring sessions then that's how it's going down.

"That all you got?" Roman smirks broadly as the kid throws a jab in his direction,

The boy snorts,

"No, just wanna go easy on you seein' you're outta practise."

"What makes you think that?"

"You know," Dean shrugs, "You just sittin' in the office, behind that desk of yours not doin' anythin'."

He's baiting Roman wickedly and grinning like a devil but it's also carefree and trusting as well. Roman's eyes narrow in response,

"That's what you figure, huh?"

Dean nods,

"Uh huh."

Roman throws a punch and although it's a slow one, Dean grins as he deflects it which more than anything is payment enough. Clearly the kid is rebuilding his armor and doing it in a way that is effective and fun. Roman enjoys it too since he's never had a little brother, just older sisters to boss him around. Not that he actually _has_ a little brother but he at least gets a sense of how that must feel now.

They continue to spar for the next twenty minutes, taking it in turns to both throw and block blows. By the time they call it quits they are breathless and panting and so Truth disappears to fetch them energy drinks, which is probably good since Dean likely hasn't eaten because his father seems unable to put food in the house. Recently Roman has started bringing extra lunch in and force feeding the kid which has had fairly mixed results. Dean doesn't like being _made_ to have to do things, even if they help him the stubborn mule that he is. But then maybe that rebellion is what keeps him going and so – although it frustrates him – Roman mostly lets it run and in return Dean seems to increasingly trust him and increasingly _tease_ him.

"You're not bad for bein' old."

" _Old_?" Roman echoes, blinking in horror that is a little less _mock_ than he wants, "I'm twenty three."

Dean shrugs,

"What's your point man?"

"My point is you're a jackass."

" _Finally_ ," Dean huffs out, "The two of us agree."

Letting loose a snort Roman reaches across to him and tousles the hair until the locks are messed up. Dean bats him off and tries his best to restore it, but his mop is generally _always_ unruly and knowing it he paws a bit more and then gives up.

" _Ugh_."

They're sat up on the edge of the apron, leaning back easily against the ring ropes and with the gym around them quiet and the streets outside empty – or relatively anyway, they're never completely dead – the world seems sort of peaceful and normal, like he isn't camped out in a failing business with a teenager who gets thrown around by his dad.

Life can be funny like that at times.

Dean blinks across at him and Roman almost misses it, but he doesn't miss the question,

"So, where'd you learn to hit?"

"In college."

"You mean in bar fights or – like – a proper place?"

Roman smirks a little,

"College gym, for two years, got pretty good at it."

"So why d' ya quit it?"

"College or boxing?"

"Uh, both?"

Roman draws a sigh in, trying to figure out where to start with it and not really knowing the answer himself. Briefly he flashes back to the night he told his parents and his mother crying about his ruined education while his father had glowered deeper and darker across the room.

 _Yikes._

Then again however, it's not his parents he's telling over – not even close to it – instead it's just _Dean_ , who has a more messed up life story than anyone he's ever met before but had still spilt the details when Roman had asked for them, even though it was obviously difficult. The very least Roman owes him back for that therefore is his own pathetic story of what had gone on.

"I quit the boxing club when I quit going to college."

"You dropped out?"

Roman winces a little, then shrugs,

"Yes."

"Why?"

It's not an easy question and he shuffles on the apron and blows out a breath,

"A whole mess of reasons I guess – although most of all – it just didn't _feel_ right."

He's expecting Dean to not really _get_ it, but instead he just nods.

"Like you're meant to be somewhere else? Yeah, I get that. Feel it a lot when I'm back at home y' know? Like someone out there has – like – got the life m' _s'posed_ to have and I'm stuck here."

The kid shrugs again and Roman just blinks at him, both surprised and also _not_ surprised at his being so genuinely profound. Is it any real wonder that Dean is an old soul when he's had to deal with the shit he has? Either way it makes Roman tousle the hair again, but down by his nape in a more massaging move.

"Hmm, wish my parents could see it the way you do."

"Were they pissed?"

"Pissed and disappointed, a real two-for-one."

"Not _that_ pissed though, right?" Dean glances up with a light frown, "I mean, they still kinda _love_ you and all that?"

"Uh huh."

In response to the assertion Dean briefly drops his head down and Roman can tell he's wondering how it feels. What it must be like to have unconditional affection and a family who sticks by him no matter what goes wrong. In turn Roman leaves his hand on the teenager, ever so lightly palming his neck. It take a few moments – or minutes, he's not sure on that – but when Dean looks up again the moment has passed. Well, maybe not passed in the normal state of being since it seems more than likely that he's beaten it down, but the haunted sort of sadness has been banished to the badlands and the kid has moved on.

"Why don't more people come here?"

Roman blinks at him,

"The gym? I don't know. That's a good question. It's not for lack of _tryin'_ to get their asses in."

" _Hmm_ ," Dean blows out a little noise of thoughtfulness and Roman looks over at him, knowing it,

"What?"

"Nothin', just thinkin'."

"What're you thinking?"

"It's just – I don't know – I _might_ have an idea, 'though it's probably stupid – ,"

Roman stops him easily, smiling encouragement,

"I'll bet it's not."

"Promise you won't laugh?" Dean looks up uncertainly and Roman shakes his head.

"Not once."

He keeps his word.

* * *

 **Any guesses as to Dean's brilliant idea (or if it even is brilliant?)**

 **I fully aim to post on Friday, but I'll just tell you now that my mother is going into hospital for treatment and so while I should be back home by the evening as usual, there is a very slim chance I might be later than normal. It won't be that I've forgotten I promise.**

 **Thanks all.**


	10. Ten

**Time for a bit more of Roman's parents, since they're going to be a big part of this thing! Plus we get to hear Dean's big idea!**

 **Skovko, Thanks for your wishes, much appreciated. The boys gradually bonding is definitely my favourite part of this story. Bit more next chapter then it all goes mad!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Thank you so much. The story is actually all written up, but it's the editing and frantic scouring for mistakes that takes the time! Sure I miss loads as it is, but I try not to!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, It was just as nice to write Dean relaxing as it was for you to read (I hope). Kinda been missing that cheeky personality! Thank you for thinking about my mother as well.**

 **Ninjoy, I have to give you a break from all the drama occasionally, if only to let you catch your breath! Glad you liked it and seeing Dean happy. There's more of that in the chapter after this.**

 **Sodapop25, Aww, thank you, I'm going through a bit of a spell right now where everything I write is a bit of a struggle (happens sometimes) but hearing such lovely praise spurs me on!**

 **Minnie1015, Thank you for your hugs, there's a lot of uncertainty here right now. But hey ho, such is life! Oooh, glad you're always itching for more. As for Dean's grand idea? You'll find it below!**

 **Stingerette1975, Well, I would say your ideas are along the right lines but not** _ **quite**_ **on the money! (As always though you know me too well) Thank you for your healing thoughts, much appreciated!**

 **Mandy, Thank you for your well wishes, we're keeping our fingers crossed. More and more information about the boys is going to come out and the bond will only get deeper as well!**

 **June3law, Winner winner chicken dinner! Fabulous guess work there as to what Dean's idea really is. Dean is starting to trust Roman more and that is going to really speed up in the next few.**

 **Cherry619, Check you out, going and guessing all right and everything *gives winners medal* Glad you're liking their brotherly relationship, after this chapter it's growing to grow a lot further too!**

 **Dean's idea reveal in 3...2...1...**

* * *

 **Ten.**

"Boxing club?"

His father blinks back at him, expression half obscured by a rising cloud of steam. His mother is dishing out homemade clam chowder into the bowls which have been set down on the placemats in front. Roman has really just stopped in to talk business since it isn't their usual family dinner night, but his mother has somehow corralled him to the table and furnished him with cutlery while pushing him down.

"Boxing club," Roman repeats, pulling his bowl back as the clam chowder ladle swings closer again, "Nah, thanks mom, I'm good with what I've got here."

His mother's face creases into a series of little frown lines and she clicks her tongue against her teeth,

"If you're sure? Don't want you wasting away through not eating."

"Yeah, _that_ ain't happening, trust me on that."

What he _doesn't_ tell her is that sitting on the countertop back at his apartment is a thawing nine ounce steak, which had been about to be pressed into service with some pepper sauce and crisp golden fries but which will now have to wait. Still, his mother's homemade fare is famous and famously _good_ so the soup is divine, only once more it makes his thoughts drift back to Dean again and his violent fractured family and all the love he'd not had. It's why he's pushing the kid's idea so forcefully. That and the fact it's actually good and so he bats aside the rising steam from the chowder and gets his father's attention,

"Two nights a month, at least to begin with, low cost for the people in the neighborhood, you know? Not a whole lot of throwaway income so it's gotta be pitched at a price they can afford."

His father blinks,

"You're talking this boxing club?"

Roman nods,

"For the local kids, yes."

"Why just the kids?"

Roman draws a quick breath in, mentally trying to remember Dean's patter and do it the justice it richly deserves.

"There's nothing for them to do in the area, so mostly they're all just out roaming the streets. Boxing appeals to 'em and it's a good way to channel them into something positive and kinda _controlled_."

"You think they'll go for it?"

Roman shrugs,

"It's worth tryin'."

"Won't build the business back up."

"Might help – if word gets out, if people think the gym is _for_ them, like a community center or something they can own."

His father blinks at him for several long seconds which makes him feel _nervous_ and he isn't sure why. In part it's because of his father's brutal business sense but it's also because the idea is _Dean's_. He's going ahead with it regardless of what his pop says, purely because he's promised the kid he will and what's more he'll _fight_ to get his father to accept it and that _he_ is the manager which makes him the boss. Surprisingly however it doesn't come down to that, as instead of picking holes his father merely _hums_. There's a look on his face like he's impressed with the initiative and maybe that's even vaguely borderline _proud_.

"That's not a bad idea son, you may have hit a winner."

Roman smiles triumphantly,

"It's not my idea, it's Dean's."

"Dean?"

"The kid I took on a few weeks back."

"He still there?"

Roman nods,

"He sure is, doin' great too, all damn things considered."

It slips out before he can stop himself from saying it and it instantly draws looks of mild alarm. If not for the fact that his mother is right next to him then he might even be vaguely tempted to curse, but in the end he keeps schtum and let's his father do the asking –

Which he does.

"Meaning what?"

Roman grunts,

"Never mind."

Trying to deflect the sudden attention he drops his gaze back down to his food, inhaling clam chowder in an attempt to keep his mouth full so he can't really answer.

His mother touches his arm,

"Roman, honey? Is this boy in trouble?"

He makes the mistake of looking up at her, then grumbles as the soft eyes seem to sort of _quiver_ and rapidly fill with instinctive concern. It isn't for him but it's hopelessly maternal and he knows that she's now worrying about a kid she doesn't know.

 _She's_ the type of mother that Dean deserves to be with – Roman's lucky to have her.

This he already knows.

"Baby?"

"He has – ," Roman stops, "A rough home life."

Seems like a good way of putting things for now.

Unfortunately though, his father's like a pitbull and so sees through the smokescreen.

"I see, rough _how_?"

His mother is still blinking across her chowder apprehensively and his father is unflinching.

Roman sighs.

 _Here goes_.

"His father's a drunk who likes to play the big man and evidently gets his kicks by beating his son."

It's a brutal assessment but no less true for it and it draws two reactions which echo back at him as one, his father sort of blinking in astonishment while his sweet mother gasps and claps shocked hands across her mouth.

"Oh my goodness, oh the poor baby, how old is he?"

"Fifteen."

"He's just a _child_."

"Yeah, he is."

It isn't difficult for Roman to see where he gets his empathy and in the silence he thanks god for his mother once more. Without it he might have let Dean go unnoticed, or maybe even turned him down for the job. Where would he have gone then? Who would have looked out for him? Unconsciously Roman's hands curl up in anger and he bites back a growl.

There's a sigh from his old man,

"You're saying this Dean boy told you all of that stuff?"

Roman shrugs a little,

"I sort of _found out_."

"How?"

"Didn't want him out in the dark so I drove him home once, saw his father coming back drunk. Then there's the way Dean is all sort of _twitchy_ – doesn't like touching or people getting too close. Two weeks back I bumped into him in the corridor and he damn near almost collapsed right there, had a bruise across his stomach where his father had laid into him, all because he slammed a door."

Roman breaks off again, remembering the moment that the swathe of painful purple had fallen into view, remembering Dean fast asleep on the sofa and the shame he had felt for being beaten up at all. That is almost the hardest damn part of it, the fact that poor Dean carries some sort of _guilt_. As if somehow he should be able to stop it from happening or like it makes him less brave which it certainly does _not_.

Beside him his mother sucks a shaky breath in and shuts her eyes briefly,

"The poor, poor child, what he must have been through. So he doesn't have _anyone_?"

Roman grunts,

"No."

Only that isn't quite true because Dean has him now and he also has Truth, not to mention the rest of the staff. Okay, so maybe Sasha is still reluctant and not a big fan of the whole _puppy love_ but even she seems to have grudgingly accepted him and everyone else has sure taken him to heart. The kid kind of seems to _glow_ when he's with them. He loosens up and acts – well – he acts like a youth. He's clumsy and gangly and crazy and charming and it's damn good to see.

His father clears his throat,

"You think it's a good idea taking all this on when you're trying to run the business as well?"

" _This_?" Roman echoes, for clarification, "You mean Dean right?"

"I do."

"Well, I'm not backing out on him now. I can't. Not with him puttin' his trust in me and everything. If I break that now, ain't no getting it back."

"It's a dangerous situation."

"For _Dean_ , not for me pop. All I do is document it and give him his pay cheque."

He decides to leave out the part about the sneakers and promising to teach the kid how to drive. Chances are his old man won't agree with that aspect and it isn't an argument he's willing to have. Frankly it isn't an argument _anyway_ since what's done is done and there's no going back. He's not there for permission to look after the kid and it isn't an acceptance he wants or needs to get.

"Document it?"

His father blinks across at him, his head tipped curiously off to one side,

"Uh huh," Roman nods, "Take shots of the bruises and write down what happened in case it ever gets to court. Figure that's the best way to give him the edge on this."

"What about family services?"

"He won't go. Thought of it scares him worse than his father does. The kid would runaway for sure and honestly, I'd rather keep him where I can see him. Kinda promised him I would, you know?"

For a second his father sort of blinks across the table and Roman can't tell what's running through his mind. He looks a strange mixture of dubious and gratified but they're almost too well blended to separate out. His mother however is far less bewildering as she reaches across the bowls and hooks a hand over his arm, squeezing gently as her brown eyes grow teary,

"Well then I'm glad that he has a friend like you. You're a good boy Roman, I'm very proud of you."

He squeezes the hand back, smiling at her warmly and feeling her faith in him fuel his own resolve. Across the table his father heaves a sigh out and they both turn to look as the older man shrugs,

"Well, if you think you can help then so be it, but I don't want you putting yourself in harm's way."

"I won't pop, trust me, I'm not the one that needs protecting."

His old man nods, then pushes his bowl away, triggering Roman's mother who instantly refills it which is fine since she's made more than any living man can eat.

"Good, now tell me more about this boxing club, I want to know how it's going to work."

* * *

 **How are we finding Roman's folks now?**

 **Thank you for the well wishes for my mother by the way, both them (and all the reviews for this crazy little story of mine) mean a lot and especially at this moment in time.**


	11. Eleven

**Time to put Dean's idea to the test!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Not a lot longer until you get to find out because Dean meets Roman's parents pretty soon! I didn't mean for his parents to have such a big role, but I couldn't stop writing them!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Well, you're in luck (sort of) because with all of the crazy I'm about to unleash, Dean doesn't get the chance to feel betrayed (is that enough of a teaser for you?!)**

 **Skovko, Oh wow, don't let people drag you down. I'm also in the** _ **like-kids-but-don't-want-them**_ **camp, so you're not alone there. P.S. Who says this story will have a happy ending anyway?!**

 **Sodapop25, Glad I've still got you hooked, always worry I'll misstep and turn people off my crazy stories! Thanks for your wishes for my mum, stage one of treatment is done so fingers crossed.**

 **Mandy, Mother doing well, just waiting for results now. Thanks for asking.** _ **Really**_ **sorry, but no Seth, for some reason I just couldn't make him fit into this. Sorry, hope that doesn't put you off!**

 **Minnie1015, Oh no, hope your little one is feeling better now, glad I could make the wait a little better. Roman's mom is my favourite thing in this (almost). Drama? Me? Surely not! *Winks***

 **Stingerette1975, Roman's dad is just a typical businessmen who likes sure things, which our poor little battered Dean isn't...yet! Roman's mom is less complicated, she's just straight up sweet!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, His parents are yin and yang but it works for them! As for Dean's idea, you got it totally, it's all about letting people know the business is there. Dean's a business prodigy!**

 **Raze Olympus, Roman's dad is a typical cautious male, but beneath the gruff exterior is a big old teddy bear really (maybe, I hope!) But hey, sometimes in life, people have to grow on you!**

 **June3law, Roman's parents are going to play a very big role (in a good way I hope) so there's plenty more of them to come. My mum is doing well thank you, recovering from surgery at home.**

 **Wwe21, Good question, glad you asked it, Dean will definitely meet Roman's parents within the next few chapters. Things are about to the hit the fan coming up, so they'll get dragged in too!**

 **Ninjoy, Glad you had a good day! Roman's parents are pretty darn great (I think so anyway) probably best they know what's happening as well...given what happens after this one that is!**

 **Cherry619, Aww, I'm so glad you enjoy my stories and even more glad that you review and tell me you do! Dean does meet Roman's parents soon, but not under great circumstances sadly for him!**

 **Boxing club, here we go...**

* * *

 **Eleven.**

When they hold the first boxing club two weeks later, the thing is an outright runaway success. Dean spends most of the time beforehand panicking – because it's his grand idea and he doesn't want it to go wrong – but in the end when the doors open up, kids _flood_ in. Or, okay, maybe _trickle_ but in a constant flowing stream.

They spend the seven days before the thing leafleting, handing out flyers and spreading the word. Truth and Dean hit the streets together and at Roman's suggestion even hit up the local schools. Stepping back into his former learning place is a weird thing but it's also good because Dean's there with a job and so it means when he sees a few faces he remembers, he can puff himself up and actually feel proud. He isn't really sure if any of those kids turn up for it when they finally have launch night but then Dean doesn't care because _enough_ people come that they make back their money and then some more on top.

In short, he's done good.

They keep the overall fee low as he suggested and Dean is grateful that Roman stands firm on that since the kids that turn up aren't really so unlike him and are therefore, eye-wateringly, pitifully poor. For the most part they shuffle in looking uncertain or in little gangs of awkwardness but they're _there_ and that's enough. What's more Dean surprises himself – and possibly everyone – by bounding over to greet each one himself before ushering them in like the host at a party.

"Hey man, step inside. Nah, don't be nervous, these guys rock, they'll look after you, alright?"

Behind him by the punching bags Truth and Sasha stand waiting, each gathering a small group before making a start. Within the hour each one of them has about ten students and there are other staff members with equal numbers besides. The gym is filled with the sound of rhythmic jabbing and the velcro of the boxing gloves and laughing and shouts.

Throughout it all Dean stands in one corner, breathless with excitement although he doesn't know why. It isn't like he's done anything wildly dramatic or is even taking part in it but he's ridiculously bright-eyed.

This is _his_ idea.

He _thought_ _this up_.

Seeing it taking off therefore is almost more than he can handle. For the first time ever he feels he's done something right and what's more is that he's actually helping out others. Or maybe he's not, maybe they're mostly just there out of boredom, but if there is so much as _one_ of them who goes through what he does when they shut their front door, then that makes it worthwhile and the thought that maybe boxing club will help them is dizzying and makes him feel proud of himself.

Roman spends the evening stood off by the main ring, counting the takings and overseeing the thing. He gets involved here and there on occasion – correcting a kid's posture and that sort of thing – but by and large he lets it flow sort of _organically_ and grins like an idiot when his brown eyes meet Dean's. In fact the older man seemingly being so pleased for him is almost, _almost_ reward enough in itself and so Dean spends the night in a hazy sort of dreamland where he _isn't_ a screw up and he can function just fine.

Towards the end two kids turn up together, looking maybe nine or at a pinch ten years old. Roman has set a lower age limit which they fall below but there's a keenness in their eyes as they drink in the punch bags and clearly want them for themselves.

Dean wants it for them too.

He glances across at Roman who moves in towards him and then shifts his eyes in the direction of the doors. He sees the boys and his brows draw in a little but then he glances back mildly and shrugs down at Dean,

"Your call."

It is startling yet nice that he gets what Dean is asking without him having to say a damn word and although he briefly wonders when that happened – when they caught the same wavelength – he's warmed by it as well.

"It is?"

"Sure," Roman nods, "This is your event uce, so you make the rules here."

Dean _huhs,_

"Then they're in."

He decides that it's best if he trains the youngsters personally since everyone else in the gym is taken up. Besides which they're only – like – really, really little so he feels it's better if they're not overwhelmed. Not that he's exactly a _veteran_ at boxing but he's three weeks ahead of them which is just about enough and so he takes them through drills and jabs and positioning and they listen intently and lap it all up. They're cute kinda kids and a little rough around the edges which means that they essentially remind Dean of _him_. He wonders briefly what situations they come from and whether boxing training is something they need. Do they have the same sort of fathers that Dean does? Are they killing time boxing or trying to save their own lives? Either way it makes him more determined to help them, which is probably why they're still there when the rest of the class leaves. In the end it's down to Roman to shoo them off again which they do with resistance, dragging their feet.

"Can we come back next week?"

Roman bites a smile back,

"Sorry fellers, only runs twice a month."

There's an audible groan and Dean wanders over and rubs an affectionate paw through one boy's hair, scrubbing the short mop around until it's messy and grinning down at them with _older brother_ vibes. The whole thing is an affectation he's learnt from Roman who does the same thing to him almost all the time. Absently he wonders when it became second nature, both _to_ him and _for_ him but he quickly shakes that off.

"Don't worry dudes, I'll see you in two weeks, alright? Real good first time out by the way."

The kids both light up as he herds them across the matting, ushering them out towards the door with his hands. They're chattering and sort of _skipping_ with excitement and Dean likes the fact that he's done that as well. He feels ridiculously grown-up all of a sudden to the point where he even sees them _physically_ across the road, standing on the sidewalk like an over-eager parent and then waving at them as they turn the corner and skitter off.

By the time he gets back into the gym he is beaming, although the look sort of falters as he catches Roman's eye. Well, catches _all_ of their eyes in reality because the entire team is staring across the room at him.

 _Crap._

"What?" Dean asks, stopping short in mild panic as alarm floods through him, "Somethin' wrong?"

The gang is stood in a huddle by the boxing ring, leant up against the apron and all wearing smiles. Detaching herself from the group like a ninja, Sasha struts purposefully towards him across the floor, not saying a word but stopping right in front of him and putting a hand on his shoulder,

"Hey man, good job, real nice idea you had with this whole boxing deal, the kids enjoyed it."

Then she leans in and kisses him and – okay – so maybe it's not a passionate lip-on-lip lock as much as a sort of graze on the cheek, but it brings her in close enough that he can smell her sweet perfume and feel her hair against his jawline.

"Uh, _wow_."

Drawing back and drinking in his look of bewilderment, Sasha snorts then swaggers straight past, calling back idly over her shoulder as she heads for the doors,

"Don't expect that every time."

The rest of the grinning staff filter out after her, ruffling Dean's hair and raining down pats. Complimenting him on the success of his brainwave and his savvy and technique.

Dean's head kind of _spins_.

He isn't really used to getting accolades _ever_ which means getting so many feels like being on drugs. Good ones though that make the world seem better and leave him completely and utterly buzzed. As the last team member saunters past and high fives him, he turns towards Roman who is still by the ring. Truth is beside him and there is something on the apron, balanced in between them. Dean frowns at it,

"What's that?"

Roman holds it up,

"My mom's special _congratulations_ cake."

He blinks at it, stupefied,

"Your mom's what?"

Stepping in towards them he gets a better look at it and – yes, as promised – the thing is a cake. A pretty amazing looking one if he's honest in an actual ring shape with glazing dribbled across the top. On instinct his stomach rumbles loudly and Roman snorts at him,

"Looks good, right? My mom's a pretty sweet cook."

"She made it for – ," Dean falters, "She made it for _me_?"

Roman nods,

" _Mmhmm_ , to celebrate the success of your first boxing club night."

"But what if – what if no one had shown up?"

Roman shrugs,

"Then it would be a _commiseration_ cake, it's kind of multi-purpose like that."

Turning around the older man pulls some plates out and a kitchen knife which he uses to carefully slice the thing up. It looks moist and gooey and totally delicious and Dean can smell the cinnamon already from where he's stood. He moves in closer as the first piece is offered out to him and then just stands looking down at it like he can't believe his luck. Truth chuckles at him,

"You ain't gonna eat it? You lookin' like you never even _seen_ cake before."

Truth's own slice – despite having only just been offered – is pretty much half gone in the blink of an eye but the teenager waits not wanting to waste his, until Roman turns around with a helping as well. Dean blinks. Of _course_ Roman would have the sort of mother who cooks for her children.

Just –

Of _course_ he would.

It's not a bad thing though and Dean's not jealous because he _wants_ Roman to have that and it's why he's a nice guy. Roman has grown up being loved and provided for and that has made him a god damn _teddy_ in return. Still, he sort of wishes he knew what that felt like and so tries to imagine it as he takes his first bite.

"Shit – ,"

"Good right?" Roman grins across at him,

" _So_ good."

Truth pats him, slapping his shoulder too hard,

"Well, you deserve it man."

Dean is in heaven.

It's definitely official, there's no going back.

In one night he's got a taste of what his life has been lacking, in the form of compliments and a sense of satisfaction and best of all mom-made, glazed home bakes. He takes another bite and then another and another until he shovelling it in like he's just learnt how to eat and is worried that he may never get a second chance at it, which he does because Roman gifts across another piece.

"So listen uce – ,"

But Dean is so busy chomping that he barely pays attention, responding instead with one word,

"Huh?"

"My dad has invited me on one of his business trips, wants me in New York for a couple of days."

Dean stops.

As in literally, his body sort of just _freezes_ and the reaction is so strong he's surprised by the force.

Frankly he's lived fifteen years without Roman and so going without him now shouldn't really matter but it fucking _does_. If Roman's not there then who's going to check on him? Who does he go to if his father beats him up? Not that his dad has done anything lately – their wildly different schedules and the lock on Dean's bedroom thankfully conspiring to keep them apart – but if he _does_ then there's one man that Dean trusts to know it and that man won't be there.

Roman catches the look.

"Just three days, alright uce?"

He speaks softly, as if to a wild animal that's about to dart off. Hearing it, Dean swallows down his thick _cakey_ mouthful and tries to ignore the fact it sticks to his throat,

"Three days?"

"No more," Roman promises him evenly, "Then I'll be back. You gonna be okay while I'm gone?"

It's Truth who responds, either choosing to gloss over or else not sensing the tension zinging round the room. Instead he jostles Dean lightly with his shoulder and winks at him cheerily,

"We'll be fine man, hey, boss man away, huh? What trouble can we cause here?"

Roman rolls his eyes,

"Hopefully none. In fact, I'm thinking about making _Dean_ my replacement instead of your ass."

Truth gapes in faux shock,

"I'll have you know I'm a real stand-up feller."

"So I hear," Roman drawls, before looking back at Dean, "Are you going to be alright?"

He repeats the words firmly, needing an answer to work from in turn. Within the simple question are a multitude of others, from _is your father going to hurt you_ to _do you need me to stay_? The fact that he _would_ if Dean asked sort of fuels him and the boy shakes his head,

"I – I'll be fine."

It isn't an especially convincing performance and Roman gazes back at him with doubt in his eyes, but once again Truth is there to pick up the mood again, grinning across at Dean,

"Hey, he might bring you somethin' back."

"Sure," Roman nods, "Want a souvenir uce?"

Dean clears his throat,

"Nah, m' good."

Only _good_ is the very last thing he is feeling.

Roman is leaving him.

The only thing he feels is dread.

* * *

 **Next chapter there is massive amounts of drama. You have been warned! I'm stepping my game up and we're moving into Phase 2 with this. Hold onto your hats folks!**

 **Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! It's been a tough few days but reading your thoughts makes things better.**

' **Preciate you all!**


	12. Twelve

**Alrighty then, time for some drama! Remember to let me know what you think!**

 **Anne Carter, Sorry I missed you off last time, you reviewed just as I posted the next one! Roman is definitely more of a people person than his father, but they're not as totally different as he thinks!**

 **Minnie1015, Glad your little one is feeling better. Roman is certainly picking up the pieces in this installment, sort of** _ **literally**_ **as well. Yep, Dean's world has come crashing down in this one!**

 **Stingerette1975, You might be right when it comes to where Dean ends up...but I should probably just let you read it yourself! You're also right about everything Dean's missed. I'm so mean to him!**

 **June3law, Turns out that little Dean is good with kids (crops up again later as well) but yeah, thought I would give him a nice little chapter since this one is...um...well, it's not. Sorry Dean!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Roman has become his big comfort blanket and so he doesn't want him going anywhere ever, with good reason too. This chapter shows why Roman should always be close!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Haha, I wouldn't want to burn everyone out with daily updates! Don't want to wear my welcome out! But yes...definitely drama and angst, starting right here...take your seats!**

 **Cherry619, Glad you've strapped your hat in place, because there's a storm 'a coming and unfortunately for Dean, it's headed his way. Please keep your hands inside the vehicle at all times!**

 **Mandy, Mother doing much better thank you. Glad you liked the last chapter, I wanted to make Dean all happy and proud. Especially because this one is not so good to him. Tissues at the ready?**

 **SkittlezLvr79, The gym is Dean's happy place right now and you're totally right about his home not being...this chapter kinda proves that, you're right about the bad shit as well. Really** _ **really**_ **right!**

 **Skovko, You're right, I might beat Dean up a bit but I always make sure he ends up happy enough. I liked the idea that Dean would start copying Roman, especially with the caring, tactile stuff!**

 **Roman's back from his business trip, here we go...**

* * *

 **Twelve.**

For the three days that Roman is in New York on business all he can focus on is the gym, which is something that catches him pretty left of center since the boardroom _should_ be what he's all about. He _should_ be drinking in the view of the shareholders and watching his father handle them with ease. He _should_ be picking up tips on big business and how to run a company as sprawling as theirs is. But try as he might, he just can't settle into it. His brain is on the rundown but loveable little gym. He wonders if Truth has remembered the weekly orders, or called the air conditioning people about the unit above the racks. He worries that the laundry won't be picked up until Monday and a lot of the time he worries about Dean.

He doesn't call them. He decides on that early because he doesn't want to seem like an overbearing boss. Doesn't want them to feel like he maybe doesn't trust them or is checking up on them. So he reluctantly resists the urge. Nor can he phone just to check on how Dean is, since that would probably draw some raised brows. Truth's not an idiot and he knows Dean has it rough at times but he doesn't know the scale and the kid doesn't want him to. Roman alone knows about the frequent beatings and he doesn't want to jeopardize that new and hard won trust. It makes the trip more difficult than he'd banked on it being but also underlines something.

He actually _likes_ the gym.

No longer is it just a troublesome stepping stone to prove to his father that he can make it as a boss. It isn't some side-project or the first rung on the ladder. It's Roman's business and he –

 _Loves_ it?

Oh, god damn.

Still, as much as he might try to deny it, what he _cannot_ refute is his grin on day four, when he wakes in his own bed instead of the hotel room, gets up, gets ready and goes to _his_ work. The gym is still standing which is definitely a good thing and he makes a mental note to let Truth take charge again. _Maybe_. If – say – he ever needs vacation time, which isn't very likely with the books the way they are. Nevertheless though, his second has bossed things admirably as Roman tells him grinning as he saunters through the door,

"Still in one piece then?"

Truth snorts,

"Y' didn't trust me? Man, I'm _hurt_."

Roman nods,

"Sure you are. You have any problems?"

The older man shakes his head in response to him, shutting his eyes as the dreadlocks bounce,

"Nope, ran like clockwork – just like I told you. 'Cept for the last two days I haven't seen the kid."

Roman's blood runs cold on instinct,

"Dean?"

"Yeah. Woulda gone to check up on his ass, but we don't have his address anywhere on the system."

Roman blinks back, unable to form sentences because there's a horrible feeling taking root in his gut. It's a biting, gnawing, _clawing_ sensation and is accompanied by a sudden and very cold wash. Roman may have only just been working out his feelings with regards to the gym but Dean loves it to death. The kid damn near _glows_ when he steps through the doorway and has a spring in his step when he gets down to work. If Dean isn't in then it's because he _can't_ get in and Roman knows that with every fibre he has.

 _Shit._

Of course, it doesn't _have_ to be serious. Maybe he has the flu or is visiting – well, _who_? As far as Roman knows Dean doesn't have any relatives and nor would he have left without leaving them word. The only real option is loud and gut-wrenching and it screams at him bodily.

 _Dean's in trouble._

 _Little uce needs help._

He's moving before he even has time to notice it, turning and stalking back towards the doors. Truth steps after him, his tones full of confusion,

"Need me to come with you?"

Roman shakes his head,

"No, you stay here and get things set up for me."

"You'll keep me in loop man?"

"Yeah, yeah sure."

Then he's outside, blinking into the sunlight and striding – well, okay, more like _sprinting_ – towards his truck. His heart is thumping like mad against his ribcage and a million jumbled thoughts and images are flowing through his head, their shouts converging and melting together until the barrage of _stuff_ becomes too much. Frowning, Roman pushes them back down again, centring himself as he jumps into the car. Crashing on the way there isn't going to be helpful and nor will losing it and just bursting into the house. He needs to be calm and in control of his emotions and so he fights off his _mom vibes_ and instead channels his dad, breathing steadily, slowly and deeply as he winds the rough streets that lead him straight to Dean's house.

In the cold light of day – because _man_ is it cold out – the little two storey looks even more unloved. The peeling paint on the porch is even more evident, as are the weeds and broken chain link fence.

There isn't any movement, either Dean-like or otherwise and as he pulls up kerbside that strikes Roman with dread. The place feels ominous and almost abandoned and the scene is so eerie that it pricks the hairs up on his neck.

 _Wrong, wrong, wrong._

He repeats the words over as he pushes through the entry gate which opens up with a squeak. Half of him expects to see the kid's father, stumbling out to find out who the hell he is and part of him actually _wants_ that to happen so he can lay the guy out and get Dean away from there.

Instead however – as he'd suspected – there is nothing and so he trudges up the cracked and flaking steps, not sure whether to knock or try the handle in the very vague hope that it's maybe unlocked. It isn't and in response to that colossal disappointment, Roman huffs a sigh out and tries his best not to explode.

"Damn."

Shuffling along the porch and trying to avoid a sinkhole hole seemingly caused by two broken slats, Roman shades his eyes and tries to peek in through the windows, finding the drapes drawn and the glass covered in filth. There's a tiny gap though and he narrows his gaze carefully, desperately trying to pick out something that might help. Inside the home is much as he expects it, with scant amounts of furniture, personality and love. There is a sofa in the front room that looks real beat up – which is probably fitting – and a television set, there's an armchair in one corner but otherwise it's empty and so stooping his head, Roman gazes right through, his eyes finding out what he assumes to be a kitchen with cabinets and –

He suddenly stops himself dead.

His bloodstream freezes and his body grows rigid.

There is something on the ground, sprawled out by the door. He can't see exactly but his gut tells him it's human and although it isn't clear he can see a bloodied hand, outstretched as if it is reaching for something, but the fingers aren't moving.

Nothing damn well is.

" _Shit_."

Letting loose a second staccato cuss word, Roman flies right on back to the door, copying the movement that he saw Dean makes weeks ago and groping around on the lintel above the frame. It's probably not the best plan he's ever had – he's not sure the key is up there for a start – but he paws the space frantically until he hears a little grating sound and pulls it swiftly from the dust to the wild beating of his heart.

 _Yes._

Getting the thing into the lock proves difficult since his fumbling digits are shaking so much, but beyond the rushing of blood through his eardrums and the nervous anxiety there's fury as well. A sort of pent up alpha male protectiveness which makes him so wrathful he can barely even think. Regardless of what's happened or who's lying on the floor tiles – although at this point how can it _not_ be Dean – Roman knows that if the kid's old man is in there, then there's going to be bloodshed and it's not going to be his.

The door opens up with a creak – like everything – and Roman sucks a breath across his teeth and steps in.

"Dean?"

Nothing, no fathers, no teenagers, no whimpers and so Roman takes a right into the dark and empty lounge.

The first thing that hits him – well, _lots_ of things hit him but the first one he can process – is the musty sort of smell. The whole damn place just has the odour of stuffiness, although maybe it's years of oppression and hurt? Either way he cuts in boldly across the carpet and arrives in the kitchen, his heart near _corkscrewing_.

Dean.

For a second or two the sight is almost _baffling_ because it's so god damn hideous and weirdly unreal. The teenager is lying stretched out beside the cupboards, face down on the floor although his head is on its side. The face is a blotchy, bloodied patchwork of injuries, from the badly split lip to scuffed bruising on his cheek. There's a deep cut across the bridge of his nose and a tell-tale purple ring beneath Dean's eye. The messy copper hair is tangled and sticky and there's a small reddened patch on the side of his skull. At some point blood has seeped out of his lip wound and pooled on the floor.

That's just _half_ his face.

The other half is still pressed down against the floor tiles, hiding more grievances and god only knows what else. The outstretched hand is scratched and the nails are bloodied, as if he's tried to fight back which almost breaks Roman's heart. There's a small red band around the wrist, set deeply, like at some point he's been held back or possibly tied up. Maybe that's why he hasn't shown up for two days? He was busy being held a damn prisoner in his house.

The breath billows out of Roman like a gut punch and he slides to his knees in horror,

" _Jesus_. Dean?"

He very nearly doesn't even want to touch him – doesn't want to hurt him, doesn't know where to start – but then he brushes down the fabric of Dean's t-shirt and presses his fore and middle fingers to the skin. The kid is cold but then the house is half-frozen although it still makes Roman visibly jolt. The thready feeling pulse is like a fucking gift from heaven and Roman lets his eyes shut.

"Thank god, _thank god_."

Briefly he debates maybe ringing for an ambulance, but then remembers the neighborhood they're in and thinks again. A rig might come out and get him eventually but they'll make it low priority and put him bottom of the list, figuring the call for another teenage gang fight or drug deal gone wrong.

So Roman makes a new plan.

He is going to do what he intended and get Dean out of there.

He'll take the kid to the hospital himself.

Rolling him over is a horrible sensation because the boy is just so unnaturally limp. It also reveals the rest of the facial wounds which are a damn _Rorschach print_ of the battered other half. For a horrible second he can't believe Dean's still breathing because he's simply too cold and unresponsive to the shift, but as Roman moves to scoop up his body the kid whines and offers an incoherent little moan. The noise is somewhere between a grumble and a whimper but it sounds completely terrified and so Roman palms his wild hair down, using the same soothing gesture that he always does and murmuring against his temple as he pulls the boy in close.

"It's okay uce," his voice is choked sounding but furious too because he's angry as hell, "Alright brother, it's Roman, I got you, gonna get you outta here, you're safe, okay? You're safe."

His entire head is a jumble of emotions and he can hardly even _think_ straight beyond one important point. He needs to get Dean to a hospital quickly, then he can focus on everything else.

"It's okay," he murmurs as he strides across the living room, towards the freedom of the wide open door, "You ain't comin' back here uce, not _ever_. I promise you, he ain't gonna touch you again."

* * *

 **Sorry Teen Dean...the writing muses made me do it!**

 **Are you guys all still with me?!**


	13. Thirteen

**Thank you faithful reviewers! Nearly 150 already! That makes me do a happy dance (no, seriously, it ain't pretty but it's fun) Right, hands up who's ready for some super worried big brother Roman?**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Oh yeah, Roman is in mad protective mode from here on out which he deals with in his usual touchy-feely teddy bear way. But who's the better big brother? Roman or Mox? Hmm.**

 **Mandy, Mother okay, but still waiting for results, which is hard. Roman's big brother senses were in full flow. He knew something was off. Feel bad about hurting teen Dean though, he's too cute!**

 **Skovko, I might be in full heartbreaker mode for the remainder of this story too. I make no apologies for it...except for when I make apologies for it. Super Roman to the rescue!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Yeah, I kinda didn't hold back, but on the** _ **plus**_ **side...uh...okay, there isn't a plus side, except that Roman is in true big brother mode now, locked and loaded and ready to go!**

 **Sodapop25, Aww thanks, glad you're enjoying it so much, even when I'm super cruel to poor defenceless teen Dean. All for the greater good though. Who doesn't love protective Roman?**

 **Stingerette1975, I think both you and Dean saw some seriously bad stuff going down when Roman left. Roman feels pretty bad about too as you are going to see in this chapter too. Poor boys!**

 **Minnie1015, Yeah, my evil muses took a bit too much glee in imagining that last chapter. I'll have to pacify them with chocolate and cake for a bit. I'll make it up to teen Dean though, I promise!**

 **Wwe21, Well, maybe not right away but I promise that at some point in this story Dean will be okay! As for why he got beaten up as badly as he did? Answers in the next few chapters!**

 **June3law, Eek, I know, I do feel a bit bad about beating Dean up, although it wasn't me** _ **really**_ **, it was his old man (you buy that, right?!) Answers about Dean's future coming up in this chapter!**

 **Raze Olympus, I'm glad that you are taking some responsibility for Dean getting all smushed up in that last chapter, makes me feel a lot less responsible for all the hurt! Here comes Big Bro Ro!**

 **Back to the action...**

* * *

 **Thirteen.**

Roman's parents arrive at the hospital breathless and worried on the third hour in. By that point, Dean has been thankfully declared stable after the flurry of doctors and nurses have settled down. He's lying in a bed, still frail and unresponsive but his wounds have been cleaned and he's stitched up and warmer now. Even so the kid still looks like a car crash and so as they come into the room, his mother lets out a gasp.

"Oh my goodness – oh the poor darling."

In a flash she is past him and over at the bed, startling Roman with both her speed and appearance as she leans across the sheets and ghosts a hand across Dean's head.

"Mom? What're you – what're you doing here?"

She looks up, tearfully,

"Well how could we not come? After that phone call and you sounding so broken – ,"

She stops the sentence with a shuddery inhale and then turns back to the boy in the bed again swiftly, running her forefinger over the cheek graze and then wincing for him in maternal alarm.

The _phone call_?

Roman blinks, having almost forgotten it but then he remembers.

The _phone call_.

Oh yeah.

Somewhere in the midst of his run to the hospital – with Dean on the backseat not making a damn sound – Roman had put in a call to his parents, gabbling the off the details and getting choked up. It wasn't as if he had expected them to help him or have any answers but he had _needed_ to make the call. He had _needed_ to hear from people he trusted and had always calmed his panic.

He had _needed_ his mom and dad.

But still, he hadn't expected them to _drop stuff_ and rush over to join him in a clinical white room. Well, maybe if _he_ had been the one injured but instead it's poor Dean.

A child they don't know.

"Here."

He jumps as a paper cup is thrust towards him, brimming with coffee that's a strong solid black. The hand doing the offering belongs to his father whose face is pulled in about as tightly as his son's. Frowning eyes cast over the battered looking teenager and then spark in anger.

"Any updates so far?"

Roman swipes a hand across his too weary features, blinks a few times and then shakes his head,

"Nah, he's just – ," he looks across at Dean again, "He's just real hurt and sort of sleepin' it off. Doctors say he's not in a coma, just too _broken down_ to wake up right now. Brain scan's normal and there's no breaks or fractures, just a whole lot of bruising and those god damn cuts."

He's getting himself more angry as he mentions it and his free hand clenches up until he hurts his own palm, nails digging hard into the flesh below his lifeline and making him wince.

"So he's unconscious then?"

"Yes."

It's a pretty harsh way for his father to put it but medically at least, the older man is starkly right. Technically its exactly how the doctors had phrased it, although Roman won't say it because he doesn't like the word.

 _Unconscious._

It sounds too brain altering and scary, like it's something Dean won't wake up from –

He prefers _sleeping it off_.

"Poor, poor baby," Roman's mother murmurs, weaving her fingers through the blood tattered locks, "You're saying his father did this?"

"I _know_ he did."

"But – but why?"

She's struggling to understand and frankly Roman doesn't blame her for a moment since the whole thing is crazy and nonsensical and mad. That any man could beat his own son into near lifelessness. That anyone could put his damn hands on a _child_. Who in the hell _does_ that and why does _Dean_ have to suffer it? Why can't the kid just have a happy, stable life?

"Because sometimes," Roman's father steps in and responds to her, seeing his son struggling, "People can't cope, they are so filled with anger they can't control their responses and take it out on those around them, children or not."

The tones are even and make Roman breathe again.

He's so glad they're with him.

So very, very glad.

"His mother left," he adds bluntly, from out of nowhere, "That's why his dad's all pissed."

"That's no excuse."

"No," Roman frowns, "It isn't, but it's the reason."

His mother shakes her head,

"Look at this poor face, so banged up and hurt and precious – ,"

"You found him like this son?"

It's his father again, trying to cut through the swirling emotions to work on hard facts like the businessman he is. Roman nods and sucks a long breath in, steadying himself,

"He was on the kitchen floor. He was so damn cold – didn't look like he was breathing – and for a minute I thought I was too late, you know?"

His mother shivers and lets her eyes slide shut miserably, picturing the horror.

"Well then he's lucky you came by."

Roman shakes his head,

"He didn't show at work for _two days_ mom, if I hadn't been away then I would've known something was wrong. Maybe I could've stopped it before it got to this, got him the hell outta there, broken things up – ,"

As it was he had arrived when the damage was over and Dean's father had given up, gotten bored and wandered off. The thought of him out there somewhere _breathing_ and acting like it hadn't happened makes his hot blood boil up and so it takes him a moment to hear his father speaking and in the end the older man has to grab him by the hand,

"Hey, _no_ , don't go down that road, you hear me? This _isn't_ your fault."

"Not Dean's either."

"No it's not because – as I see it – the only person to pin the guilt on is the monster that took his damn fists to that poor boy, so let's stop with all this pointless unhelpful self-torment and place the blame where it belongs, okay? Hell son, you saved his life, you hear me?"

Roman's head pops up a little bit at that one and his brows quirk up in surprise.

"I did?"

His father nods,

"Well of course you did Roman, if you hadn't turned up, he'd still be on that floor."

"Who knows how long he'd been there already."

His father squeezes his wrist,

"You can ask when he wakes up."

 _When_ he wakes up.

Not _if_ and not _maybe_.

But _when_.

Roman hauls a breath in and nods.

"Yeah."

For the next thirty minutes he fills them in on everything, from the night Dean showed up to bringing him in. He talks about the sneakers and the black eye and the exhaustion and also the boxing night and Dean coaching the kids. The chatter is idle but warm and reassuring and Roman relaxes a tiny little bit. Having his family there makes it less awful.

Or least it _does_ until a damn policeman walks in, his hat beneath his arm but a frown on his features as if he doesn't want to be there or doesn't trust them an inch.

"Roman Reigns?"

"Yes?"

The cop frowns,

"You found the victim? A _Dean Ambrose_ , right? I take it this is him?"

As he speaks he points a ballpoint in Dean's direction, barely bothering to take the kid in. Roman's face twitches with instinctive, raw fury and he almost responds dryly –

 _No, this is some other beaten child._

Fortunately however his father grips his arm again and then pats it gently to draw the anger down. Roman sighs and blows a short breath out, but then nods minutely,

"Yeah, that's him."

The officer either doesn't pick up the tension or possibly does but doesn't really care and instead simply nods and writes something in his notebook which Roman very briefly doesn't wonder is _yes_.

"You said the kid's father was the assailant? Can you confirm that?"

Roman's fists tighten ferociously,

"No, but I know he beats him and when Dean is awake again, he'll tell you the same thing."

"Relationship."

"Huh?"

The officer's eyes drift up again, narrowing contemptuously as he slows his voice right down. Roman isn't accustomed to be spoken to like an idiot and it doesn't really help his worsening mood but as his father's fingers tense he stays in control again and doesn't bite his head off although he wants to and worse.

"What precisely is your relationship to Dean Ambrose?"

"I'm his employer – ," Roman pauses then amends it, "I'm his friend."

"Does the kid have any other family?"

"None that he's mentioned."

"Do you know where his father is?"

"No I don't."

He doesn't add in _but I would sure as hell like to_ although he thinks it fiercely and his eyes glint the same thing.

"Well then – ,"

"Well then _what_?" Roman fires back at him and the cop looks up sharply, the contempt there again.

" _Well then_ I guess I'll have to call the CPS in, since the kid doesn't have anyone to take care of him,"

"He has me."

Roman's growl catches all of them suddenly and both the cop _and_ his parents swivel round in alarm. There's a mixture of emotions on the three different faces but they all share confusion and a look like he's gone mad. Roman doesn't flinch though. He knows what he's doing.

Or _doesn't_ but has the conviction to at least forge on.

His father is the first to find words to fill the moment although his tone says instantly that the doubt is flowing strong and knowing it his son cuts him off when he's two words in and before he can properly make his usual forthright start,

"Roman, look – ,"

"No dad, I mean it, I'm not letting anyone put him in care,"

"But you don't know that's what's going to happen."

The older man glances to the policeman for backup and finds himself merely replied to with a shrug. Officer McUseless isn't keen to get involved in things especially family business and so he simply keeps schtum. His silence however is also an affirmative that foster care is highly likely what will go down, so in the end his lack of words speaks actual _volumes_ and steels Roman's resolve.

"It's not going down. Dean won't want it and he won't let it happen and since he can't say that right now, _I will_. That kid is _not_ going into the damn system. He'll never get out. He'll suffocate in there."

His mother looks up and chews her lip worriedly, her fingers curling around Dean's hand,

"What are you suggesting you do here Roman?"

"Take him in myself."

"Can you even _do_ that?"

Once again all eyes turn to the officer, who blows a weary breath out and once again shrugs. Evidently that seems to be the man's _go-to_ gesture for whenever he doesn't know something and he doesn't know a lot.

For a moment there is a long uneasy silence, then Roman's father grumbles,

"You sure that's what you want?"

Roman's eyes drift back over to Dean again, lying so still and beaten up on the bed. There's not a single hint of the lively, cheeky teenager who sings off-key melodies and likes to dance with the mop. Instead there's just a child with no one that loves him and who is going to wake up to a _hail_ of pain. The last thing he needs – or will want – on top of that is being dumped miles away with a family he won't know. Besides which, he already _has_ a god damn family – the _gym_ is his family and that makes it his home. In short, he doesn't belong anywhere that they're not and so Roman nods once, his face firm,

"It is."

Glancing at his wife, his father sighs shortly but then shrugs as if he's already made his peace.

"Guess I'd better start making some calls then."

Roman shuts his eyes and sucks in a long breath. Things aren't exactly all fine and dandy but his father's on side and that counts for a lot because the head of their household has always been a fixer and so Roman is confident he'll find a way to make things work.

Leaning forward, he rests his arms along the bed rail and swipes back Dean's hair with a big protective palm.

"Hear that uce? Looks like you might be stuck with me. You listenin' brother? Wake up for me now."

* * *

 **See? Something good might be coming out of the beating after all. I'm not** _ **that**_ **mean to Dean (lies, all lies, I'm so, so cruel).**

 **Next chapter Dean meets Roman's parents properly, will all go well?**


	14. Fourteen

**Time for our poor battered little boy to wake up now! Also, so many sweet and uplifting reviews, you guys all rock!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, True, Dean isn't used to pity so doesn't feel comfortable with it. Typical man! Although he's going to have to learn to trust, since the Reigns' aren't really ones for saying no!**

 **Skovko, Roman is pretty tough, but he's still only young here and way out of his depth on this. Mama and Papa to the rescue! Maybe that's where he gets his own superman abilities from?**

 **Sodapop25, Two reviews! Aww, you're spoiling me! Don't worry, I will definitely keep updating! Hope you like Dean meeting Roman's parents in this one, poor kid deserves a bit of love and luck.**

 **Stingerette1975, Roman's mother turns the comfort factor up to about eleven! Totally where Roman gets his** _ **teddy bearing**_ **from. Still, they're a lot to handle for poor love starved teen Dean.**

 **Mandy, Thank you, having ups and downs here but just keeping going. Roman's mother turned into about my favourite character in this...aside from super protective Roman bear of course!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Thank you for thinking of me, that means a lot. Good news, Dean does indeed wake up in this one and he needs his Roman comfort pronto. Brotherly feels be ahead in swathes!**

 **Anne Carter, Roman's father is a typically gruff older generation male, so he shows his love by sorting out problems and being the family fixer. It works for him though. He cares really!**

 **Wwe21, Well, I figure Dean needed a tiny bit of good news what with everything bad I've done to him, so being taken in by Roman is one of those things. Hope you enjoy the parental meeting!**

 **Minnie1015, Haha, I know, I'm sorry, I'm sort of drip-feeding this story and it's a long one too so you'll have to be patient a lot!** _ **So**_ **much big brother Roman though. My ultimate weakness!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Roman is just a big old softie who can't bear to see people get hurt. Plus he and Dean have a connection, so he can't let him suffer. I love big brother Roman too! Plenty of it here!**

 **June3law, Roman's mom fast turned into one of my favourite things in this story. It wasn't intentional. I just started writing her and she just sort of grew! Glad you like her though (yay!)**

 **AngelsDestiny22, I know, I'm being really rough on Dean in this story (nor is that the last I'm afraid) but at least it's making Roman more protective and determined to make life better for him.**

 **Cherry619, Well luckily (or un-luckily) there is still a lot more of this story to go, so although things are looking up now, there is plenty of opportunity for his old man to spring back up...** _ **plenty**_ **!**

 **Lots of brother vibes coming your way...**

* * *

 **Fourteen.**

Dean wakes up slowly – as in really, _really_ slowly – in a gradual progression instead of all in a rush. The first thing that returns to full strength is his hearing because although he can't decipher it, there are low voices in the room. His body tenses on instinct and he stiffens, every part of his system flooding with alarm. He isn't sure why, but then he isn't sure of anything including where he is, when he drifted off or frankly _how_. The last thing he remembers is –

 _Huh._

Well, _nothing_ although the tensing of his muscles draws a sudden burst of flames, that seem to lance every last inch of his system including his eyes, his head and his skin.

 _Shit._

He hurts like an absolute devil and it makes him screw his face up in a whimpered little wince. He feels a sense of panic, like he should remember something or like he _needs_ to remember.

He doesn't feel safe.

He twists in the sheets and then hisses fiercely as something – his ribs he thinks – seize up in pain. There's a rustling sound and the covers pull slightly accompanied by a shrill little creak of the springs. Then there is a sudden dull pressure at his fingers which is warm and tight feeling,

"Dean? Hey, uce?"

Through the fog of confusion he hears the tones are Roman's and even though real understanding doesn't come to him, there is an underlying knowledge that wherever he is he's safe. Because that's what the older man means to him these days. Instinctive security, protection and trust. But there's still the nagging question of why the big guy's there with him, which draws another query.

Where the hell is _there_?

He whimpers again although the noise isn't him-like and so he doesn't register the sound as his own. Roman does though, or registers something because the soft grip tightens and there are fingers at Dean's head, brushing lightly through his hair – which he can feel now, gradually he's beginning to feel everything – and palming back the tangle of fibres in a move which briefly settles the ache.

"Dean? I know it hurts. Can you open your eyes for me?"

 _Hurts_ is an understatement.

Dean is on fire.

There's barely a part of him that isn't tender or in agony and it ripples across his skin and burns down into his bones. What he can't work out is why it's happening? Although as he lies in discomfort, brief flashes return. He sees his father angry – _so_ angry – screaming in his face and throwing out a fist. He feels the cold bite of a floor underneath him, confusion and terror, coughing pitifully, crying, _hurt_.

"Uce? Easy, it's okay, you're safe now."

A touch glides gently over his skin, swiping something up away from his cheekbone and leaving a wet trail. Is he crying again? Despite that though Roman's voice is still calling him and so Dean shifts slightly and opens his eyes a bit.

 _Light._

 _Pain._

He groans in dissension and tries to twist into the pillow again.

Pillow?

Somewhere in his mind he's assumed they're in the office and he's passed out on the couch like he had done last time, but the more he thinks, the more he realises he's stretched out and lying in a position a lot like he's in a bed. Where though? The blue eyes slowly open up again and sure enough, Roman is the first thing they see, surrounded by the harsh glare of clinical lighting and a brilliant white room. Dean blinks,

"M' I dead?"

Roman's brows flicker in closely for a moment, then his palm is back on Dean's forehead,

"No, it's okay, you're fine – you're in the hospital."

"S'pital?"

"I brought you, found you all banged up, remember that?"

Dean frowns deeply, the motion pulling at his features and at a sudden stab of pain he whines again. Groggy hands reach up in search of the the injury but he's still half-asleep and so they collide with his head, clumsily bashing into his lip area and causing _more_ pain and dissent.

"Wha – _ow_."

There are lines connected to the back of his knuckles and taped in place and he blinks in alarm, Roman quietly catches his hand again and guides it back down onto the covers of the bed, seeing the confusion and pain and bewilderment and moving to explain,

"You were beaten up pretty bad. Been out about nine hours now. Means they had to hook you up."

The information swims around his head emptily, like parts of a weird puzzle that won't fit into place. Among them his father continues to loom broodingly and the more Dean blinks, the more flashes come back. Nor are they a happy recollection, they're terrifying and make him almost _whisper_ back.

"He – he hit me, so fuckin' angry, couldn't stop him – wanted to – wanted to make him stop."

His chest grows tighter with every word he speaks about it because every single syllable drives a knife through Dean's heart, every stumbled utterance is accompanied by a memory and they are all of them so brutal that they physically _hurt_.

"I know," Roman rumbles above him, grounding him, "I know you did, it wasn't your fault."

He blinks up at Roman in confusion for a second, noting the big hand still wrapped around his own. He is still so sleep addled that he hasn't explored the room more and so as another voice chimes in from somewhere past Roman's shoulder, Dean's eyes widen and he actually jolts.

"Son? Can you tell us, was it your father?"

The speaker is a big man – like, _really_ big – with a severe looking brow line but enough familiar markers dotted across his features to single him out as Roman's kin and glancing at his boss only further confirms that as Roman nods,

"Dean? This is my dad."

"Hello son."

 _Son._

Dean wrinkles his brow in bewilderment. Do all of the Reigns men claim strange teenagers as their own? Either as brothers – the _uce_ he's grown so fond of – or else as actual offspring? Still, the moment seems huge. Dean has heard all about Roman's father and so while he knows he's loving he's also powerful as well and doesn't seem to let go of things very lightly, like Roman's college dropout. He's intimidated to say the least.

"Um – ,"

"Oh, don't worry about him baby, that one's far more fierce than he looks."

Another voice cuts in and Dean turns his head a bit to take in the woman who is sat by the bed. She is _not_ huge but is more petite looking and there's a softness about her which Dean instantly likes. He realizes belatedly that she has his other hand and is gently stroking his knuckles with her thumb.

"Are you – ," Dean's words are dry and he chokes on them, which hurts a lot, "You Roman's mom?"

A glass of water and a straw appear beside him, as the man in question offers the teenager a drink. Dean's tongue ghosts thirstily over a cracked bottom lip, tasting blood from the split and then nodding his assent.

"Here baby," Roman's mother – who frankly it _has_ to be and at no point does anyone tell him it's not – quickly stands and rearranges the pillow nest, as Roman lends his free hand to help Dean sit up.

It isn't easy – in fact it hurts like the devil – but gradually he manages to shift from lying flat, easing his battered form over the mattress until he's slumped against the pillows just high enough to take the straw. The water is cool and utterly beautiful although it burns his throat so he can't drink it for long. He breaks away with a cough and Roman quickly soothes him, a hand finding his shoulder,

"Easy now uce."

In raising his fingers towards the glass, Dean's sees something, wrapped around his wrist in a painful red band. He stares at the indentation for a second, his brain almost whirring as the Reigns family look on. There's a sudden sort of tension and as the memories come back again, the breath rushes out of him and Dean whimpers in alarm. His chest grows tight like his ribs are made of iron, constricting his breathing as tears spring from his eyes. He's so beaten down, so broken and bewildered and he hurts damn near _everywhere_.

He can't take it anymore.

As he shuts his eyes to try and stifle the stinging – because even his _tear ducts_ fucking hurt – the mattress compresses over on his right side and then suddenly his face is pressed into something warm. That same something wraps an arm around his shoulders and draws him forwards until his head bumps a chest. It shuts the harsh lighting out and wraps him up completely and Dean knows that it's Roman and knows that he's safe.

"Sssh, it's alright man – ,"

"Wh-where is he?"

"Your father?"

Dean nods miserably and Roman's own replies,

"Not here, you're safe now. The police are out looking for him."

"Did he do this baby boy?"

Another nod for Roman's mom, who places her hand very lightly on his shoulder and then kneads the exposed joint between her son's protective arms.

"Don't – ," Dean splutters, hating his own weakness, " _Please_ don't make – don't make me go back."

Somewhere above him he hears Roman's shirt rustling as the bigger man emphatically shakes his head back and forth, the words rumbling out and straight down through his ribcage and making the teenager vibrate with them in turn,

"Never, alright? You're never going back there."

But that isn't as reassuring as Dean would really like, because if he's not going home then there's only one option and that is the foster system and being flung into care. He is _literally_ stuck between a rock and a hard place and suddenly it seems completely unfair. It's not like he damn well asked for his shit life but he had tried to put up with it and now things seemed _worse_.

"Am I – am I b-bein' p-put into f-foster care?"

Roman shakes his head again,

"You're comin' home with us."

Dean pulls away, wincing as it hurts him but he barely even registers over the puzzlement he feels. Roman clearly cannot be serious but at the same time it doesn't seem like a joke. Dean swipes away his tears trails swiftly and jolts his bruised eyes but continues to blink up,

"W-with you? For – for _real_?"

Roman nods slowly and – no – he's not joking, he's totally and utterly, smilingly sincere,

"For real uce, you're an honorary Reigns now, we got paperwork and everything."

"I don't – _how_?"

Roman's father clears his throat in the background and then shrugs off hand,

"I made a few calls. Play golf once a week with a couple of judges, one of whom sits high up in the family court. He owes me a favor from a couple of years back, so I decided to cash it in."

Dean blinks,

"So I – I'm safe?"

The question seems to hit Roman's heart like a thunderbolt and he drags Dean in closer and draws him back against his chest. It reignites the injuries but this time it doesn't bother him because Roman's words mean so much more.

"You're safe, you're safe uce, okay? It's all over. We're not gonna let him hurt you anymore."

Dean falls asleep again ten minutes later, spent but happy and for once feeling secure.

* * *

 **I told you I could be nice to Dean! He does need some goodness though. Next chapter he heads on over to the Reigns' house...which is pretty different from the one he's come from to put it mildly!**

 **Hopefully I'll see you all there!**


	15. Fifteen

**Time for Dean to see how the other half live!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, You're feeling is right! But I'm being nice to Dean and giving him a few chapters to settle in first and get a taste of goodness. You know something's will happen eventually though!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Well, it's safe to say that Dean has a bit of a hard time adjusting to being cared for, but it's still better than what he had. Sasha and Truth will be back, don't you worry!**

 **Stingerette1975, Um *hands heart back* hear you go, sorry I ripped it out! Love, rage and possessiveness are good words to describe Roman for the rest of this, they build as we go too.**

 **SkittlezLvr79, How do you know that I won't make it all happy and plain sailing to the end? Okay, it won't be! Dean will definitely need to adjust, Roman has a big family and they like to be heard!**

 **Minnie1015, Ooh, you'll make me blush! Thank you so much, writing is literally the only thing I've ever been able to do without having to work at it, although some days are easier than others!**

 **June3law, Oh my goodness, you are so right about Roman's parents. His mother in particular is very much a natural caregiver so she really feels for poor old Dean. Plenty of love coming!**

 **Mandy, Mother and I doing okay thanks, test results still pending so nerves a plenty. Glad you're still loving the story. I figured Dean would probably just want to know that he was safe at last.**

 **Skovko, Roman's folks trust their son, especially I figure since it's out of character for him, so therefore must be serious. Hope it shows the bond they have. Maybe Dean can share it now too?**

 **Rebel8954, Dean's father is good at being a slimeball as you already know but will find out more. As for Dean and Mama Reigns? All I will say is that I love their interactions! Hope you do too!**

 **Dean's moving in day!**

* * *

 **Fifteen.**

Dean is kept in for the next two days, during which he swims in and out of varying depths of sleep, always waking up to moments of panic although thankfully they don't ever last for very long. Roman stays for the entire duration, except when chased off by his mother to go and shave, during which time he's usually gone a few hours and Mama Reigns smiles and slips into his place.

Dean likes Roman's mother _a whole lot_ because she is essentially everything that a mother should be. She bakes – his boxing celebration cake for example – she strokes his hair, smiles warmly and even sings him to sleep. The latter is something of a surprise one morning when he wakes up baffled and on the verge of freaking out. He isn't fully conscious but feels a hand encase his one, followed seconds later by a soft lilting voice and although his heart is still beating like metronome the noise soothes him totally and sends him under again. He mentions it to Roman when he wakes up some hours later and the bigger man smiles,

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that, she would always sing me back to sleep when I woke up, she's pretty good too. I guess it's just her kinda _thing_."

Alongside being so gentle and caring.

Mama Reigns seems to have an excess of nice _things_.

Truth shows up on Dean's last day of captivity – because at this point that's what the hospital room is like – bringing a balloon and a _Get Well Soon_ card signed by the gym staff including Sasha as well. Initially Dean is hesitant about seeing him since he looks like a punching bag and feels like one too, but Truth is just _Truth_ and so chirpy and smiling that he eases Dean's worries in about a minute flat. He falters a little at seeing all the damage but then lets out a whistle,

"The other guy look like that? Man, the girls are gonna be all _over_ you."

Dean blinks,

"Yeah?"

"Oh _hell_ yeah, for sure."

He doesn't really mind the bruises so much after that and even tries it out on a twenty-something nurse, hamming up the whole big wounded hero angle and then grinning as she winks at him,

"Well, it hasn't damaged your handsome face."

Roman rolls his eyes and bites back a chuckle, equal parts disapproving and proudly sort of wry. Evidently Truth has got a point after all. Maybe Sasha will like it? Maybe that makes it worthwhile?

The other thing that is fleshed out further in the hospital is the story of how Roman found him, although it's not a happy tail. The bigger man won't go into it all in too much detail – which is fine because honestly Dean doesn't want to hear – but he can tell from the way his _employer come_ _brother_ shudders that it wasn't a pretty scene and that it scared him half to death.

For his part Dean refuses to answer anything from his end about what happened to him. He can remember it now – god damn _vividly_ for the most part – but he isn't prepared to share it just yet. Mostly that's because the people who are asking are doctors and cops and some social worker guy, who looks like he's _knitted_ the cardigan he's wearing and is so straight-laced as to rankle Dean at once. They prod him though and try to press him into saying things at which point he always thanks god that Roman's there. He can tell that the bigger man is desperate to hear it, but he won't let anyone push Dean too far.

" _When he wants to say it, he'll say it._ "

That's Roman's mantra and he repeats with a growl whenever the lines of questioning get too much for him or Dean starts to squirm or look to him for help.

Seemingly they haven't yet found Dean's father and although that kind of scares him he isn't surprised. Either his old man has gone to ground somewhere, or else the police haven't really been looking at all because he's just another insignificant teenager who comes from the _very_ wrong side of their town.

"They'll find him," Roman grumbles assuredly when he asks him, "Or I damn well will."

"You think he'll come back?"

"I'd like to see him try."

The older man means it and his fists clench and make Dean feel weirdly safe again.

His release on the third day feels almost like Christmas, or at least a _normal_ Christmas with a family that does it right. He is wheeled to the door – the doctors won't let him walk it for a variety of bullshit reasons Dean doesn't really understand – then Roman helps him up and gets him settled in the pickup, with his parents travelling in convoy behind. Together they thread out of the center of the city and beyond into the suburbs where Dean's never been before. The houses are bigger here with space in between them and sprawling plots of land, with driveways and lawns. Everything is white and shiny and _new_ feeling and there aren't any black-dressed gangs on the streets. Instead there are children out riding pink bicycles, people tending roses and walking lazily with their dogs. The further they get into it, the more relaxed Dean starts feeling although it's really weird too, as in proper _Stepford_ stuff.

Roman's house – or his _parents' house_ actually since it's Papa Reigns' name whose on Dean's guardianship award – is probably the biggest house he has laid eyes on and his blue orbs blaze wide as Roman swings into the drive.

" _This_ – ," Dean stumbles, " _This_ is where you spent your childhood?"

Roman nods back,

"Sure is."

"Holy cow."

There are more god damn windows than Dean can even fathom but the place is neat and warm looking and obviously well loved. There are lots of little touches – a string of lights around the porch beam and a welcome mat inscribed in swirly writing _welcome friends_ – that Dean knows the place is where _family life_ happens and it makes him dicker uncertainly on the step. Why the hell would they ever want _him_ there, all shabby and intruding on their apple pie lives? A ball of something swells up in his throat suddenly and he blinks back hot tears.

He doesn't belong here.

Roman is behind him, getting things from the pickup and Dean almost turns around and asks to go home – not that he wants to but because he _deserves_ it, this place is too good for him – when Mama Reigns shows up, stepping across the threshold and then turning back to him, one hand held out,

"Dean, baby, you coming in?"

He takes her hand because he honestly can't deny her – how can he when she's easily the nicest woman he's ever met – and she gently eases him over the doorstep, letting him glue his blue eyes to her as he tries not to trip.

Inside the house is everything he's hoping for but at the same time so much warmer as well. Despite the proportions there is comfort and cosiness, from the coats hung on pegs to one side of the doorway to the family photos lined up along the walls. There's a long patterned runner taking the bite off the hardwood and knick-knacks and the general detritus of life. It _smells_ lived in too, like cooking and people and not musty and cold like his own home used to and probably still _does_ although frankly Dean doesn't want to think about that place which is actually pretty easy since he's still stood in awe. It's how Roman finds him as he bustles in through the doorway, frozen like a statue in the middle of the hall.

"What do you think uce?"

"It's – it's like a _palace_."

Roman chuckles,

"Not exactly."

"It is to me," Dean murmurs back and in response to it Roman sort of _stops_ for a moment before sighing and lifting up a hand to fluff his hair, cupping the back of Dean's head in its entirety and drinking in the words and their meaning.

"Then it is."

"How long am I allowed to stay here?"

"Don't worry," Roman grumbles evenly, "As long as you want."

"But what if – ,"

"Hey," Roman interrupts the panicking, raising his eyebrows, "How many times do I gotta tell you that you're completely safe here? I mean it, okay? You just focus on gettin' better and leave all that legal stuff to me and my old man. Now come on uce, time to show you where your room's at, mom's kinda gone pretty wild settin' it up."

He isn't kidding about that either.

The room is – the room is more than Dean had ever _hoped_.

It's big and airy with neutral grey décor and a large clean window that lights the place up. There is closet space – a lot of it, far more than he has clothes for, not that he has anything except the bloodied threads he's in – as well as a desk and several shelves of ornaments, basketballs and baseball gloves as well as tomes of books. Dean enjoys reading and so that is a highlight. He hasn't sat down and read a good book in _years_. When he'd been at school, he once stole someone's library card and passed himself off so he could draw out lots of books. He never took them back though, because he wanted to keep them since he had so very little of his own. Sometimes he wonders how much the fines have run up and whether the real _Heath Slater_ has ever been sent a bill. Here though are books that he doesn't have to pilfer and his heart leaps at them.

"Are they – are they to read?"

"Sure uce," Roman nods, smiling a little, presumably at the look on Dean's face. He can't help it though, it like he's living in some dream world and he's scared he'll wake up again and be curled up on the kitchen floor.

"Wanna try out your new bed?"

The _bed_.

The bed is too god damn heavenly and sinks beneath Dean's tired and world-weary limbs. It's a double which feels like an absolute luxury and there's a thick quilt across the top of it that has a patchwork of football teams.

"Used to be mine," Roman informs him, as Dean runs his fingers over a vibrant _Giants_ patch, "Thought I was going to grow up and join the big leagues, didn't work out, got injured too much."

"That why you left college?"

Roman shrugs,

"Partly, but there was also this thing with a girl – ,"

Dean looks up,

"Get your heart broken?"

"Pretty much stomped on and then pushed down a hill as a matter of fact."

Roman wiggles his brows to show it's fine though and Dean likes the revelation since it's another way they're the same. Because – okay – so Dean wasn't _in love_ with his mother but they've both had to let important women in their lives go.

"What are these?"

There are piles by the pillows, carefully folded bundles of washed and pressed clothes.

"Oh," Roman grins, "Mom did some shopping, some of it's my stuff but a lot of it's new."

"What're they for?"

Roman blinks,

"They're for you uce."

" _Me_? But I can't – I haven't – ,"

"It's cool, she wanted to."

Roman sort of shrugs like the gesture is no biggie when it reality it is an unspeakably huge massive deal. Mama Reigns has gone out and bought clothing, jeans, tops and underwear seemingly all for him. Dean isn't especially used to getting anything except the occasional hospital stay and so for some strange reason that he can't quite put words to, rather than feeling happy he is completely at sea.

"No, no I can't, I can't – I don't want them," Dean shakes his head, tears gathering, "I _can't_. There's no way I can afford to p-pay her back for all this and she wastin' your dad's money and – ,"

Roman sits down by his side, dipping the mattress so heavily beneath him that Dean topples sideways and under his arm,

"Hey, I know, I know it's a lot, okay uce? But she sees you as family and doesn't know how else to help. Besides, the police are still looking through your place and so you're gonna need some threads 'til we can go grab your stuff. You don't have to pay us back okay, _ever_. That is not what this is, _at all_. We all just want you to get better and be yourself again. That's the only payment they need alright?"

Dean might sort of _cry_ a bit at that point, although not in sadness but much more from sheer relief. He still feels all kind of awkward about being there and like he's heading for a fall but he's exhausted as well. He's almost too tired to keep on fighting and the thought he might not have to – the thought he might be safe, not to mention maybe loved – seems a cruel sort of joke. He'll take it though, for as long as he can do because he knows once it's over he'll never get it back. No one else apart from the Reigns' will even _contemplate_ taking a chance on a street kid like him and so even if he does wake up back in the kitchen he's damn well going to enjoy his dream while it lasts.

"Better?" Roman asks, feeling Dean cool down a bit and the teenager nods, his voice scratchy,

"Uh huh."

"How about that stomach of yours, feelin' hungry?"

Dean's eyes pull down at him heavily and he yawns,

He saw something once on some animal programme that when a dog gets rescued it will sometimes sleep for days, just knowing that love security are there for it in a sort of exhaustion build-up release. He thinks on that now as the tiredness washes over him and wonders what sort of dog he would be. Probably something scruffy and tenacious like a terrier that's small but thinks it's something big. He figures he would probably have a chunk of an ear missing and enjoy rolling around in the trash and in dirt. In fact, he's _so_ busy thinking about it that he barely even registers he's drifting off to sleep, starting a little as hands brace his shoulders and lower him gently down onto the sheets.

"Huh – ,"

"Easy uce," Roman's voice soothes gently, carefully peeling the battered sneakers from his feet, "You just get some rest for a while, you hear me? I'll be right downstairs if you need anything."

The sheets smell clean as the older man arranges them, pulling them up so they're just beneath Dean's chin. They're thick and luxurious in a way he's never felt before and a mile from his usual ones which are threadbare and thin.

"R'man?"

He hears feet pause in the doorway and then the comforting grumble,

"Yeah, something wrong?"

"I am – I am gonna tell you what happened."

Roman snorts softly,

"Whenever you're ready, we've got time."

* * *

 **Next chapter, Dean's future is discussed and our poor battered teenager hits a brand new problem in his ongoing recovery, but we get answers as well…**


	16. Sixteen

**Apparently some of you guys had trouble seeing the chapter on Monday? Sorry all. It was something to do with the site being slow (I think). Fingers crossed no repeat today though!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Dean trusts that Roman isn't going to judge him at this point. Even though, I'm not sure what happens in this chapter is quite what he had in mind...yes, I'm being mean to him again!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, You know me too well! Yeah, this chapter is a pretty sad one but it has to be done, plus it means lots of protective Roman...you...you like that right? So that means I get a cookie?!**

 **Mandy, So glad you like Roman's mom, she is sweeter than candy that's for sure. Evidently she goes overboard on buy clothes for battering teenagers too! Thanks for your well wishes *hugs***

 **Minnie1015, Don't you worry, I've got you covered, answers coming up in this very chapter! Also though, a bit of angst in it and lots of loving Roman. So I think I've ticked all the boxes with this!**

 **Sodapop25, Aww, stop, I can't take the praise, it's not in my nature...okay...go on then, just a little bit more. Seriously though, I'm glad you're loving this story. It's one of my absolute favourites too.**

 **Stingerette1975, Roman's mom is pretty much in full mothering mode from here on in! Nobody else gets a look in! Luckily (or unluckily) Dean's new problem is more mental. As you will see…**

 **Skovko, I'm not good with people buying me things (it's not just me that thinks birthdays are weird, right?) so I figure Dean would be the same way. He doesn't feel deserving enough yet.**

 **Sodapop25, Oh go on then...since you left two reviews, you get two comments! Happy ending? Hmmm. I'll have to see what I can do (kidding, I love Dean too much to leave him hanging!)**

 **June3law, Roman was just born to tousle Dean's hair wasn't he? In real life and in my story form. His parents get more of insights into Dean's life in this chapter too, which fires more vibes!**

 **BankonReigns80, Wow, thank you so much, that's a lovely compliment. I'm glad you're enjoying this shameless little hurt/comfort fiction of mine! Plenty more to come with it too, so strap in!**

 **ReignsFan83, Hi, Glad to hear you're ready for the ride, because we've still got a way to go with this story! Hope you like my others too, been in a Dean writing groove over the last few months!**

 **We're halfway through now folks!**

* * *

 **Sixteen.**

Roman joins his parents in the kitchen although as he wanders in they drop their voices low. Clearly they are expecting to see Dean shambling next to him and so he raises his brows by way of answer,

"Fast asleep."

His mother clucks her tongue in genuine sympathy, shaking her head a little,

"Well I'm not surprised, the poor boy has been through it, poor mite must be absolutely wiped out."

Roman _hums_ and takes a seat at the breakfast bar, hooking one foot over the cross beam with ease,

"I think it's more that he finally feels safe again, I mean, he slept in the hospital but never _relaxed_."

His mother passes a mug of hot tea across to him, peppermint and liquorice which she clearly feels will help. His father mistakes it for normal tea and gulps it before pulling a face and sharply putting it down. Roman on the other hand is happier with the concoction. Just another way he and his mother are so alike,

"Probably hasn't relaxed in _years_ the precious little baby, not with that father of his. Honestly, if I ever get my hands on him – ,"

His father quirks a brow at his wife,

"You'll _what_ my dear?"

"I'll give him a piece of my mind, that's for damn sure, treating an innocent child like that."

She flaps a dishcloth across her shoulder huffily and then starts washing up to burn her searing anger off. Roman's father smirks back at his son a little and Roman stifles a smile in return. His mother has never been anything _but_ maternal and it appears that Dean has been tucked well beneath her wing.

"I'm sure you would mom,"

"Did he like the clothes I picked him?"

Roman pauses,

"He was – uh – he was a little overwhelmed, didn't think you should be spendin' all pop's money on new things just for him."

He doesn't mention that he cried.

In response Roman's mother puts down a soapy dinner plate and adopts a look of grief,

"Oh my goodness, I didn't think, that poor child probably doesn't get things bought for him and there I go picking a whole _closet_ out for him,"

"Nah," Roman shakes his head and frowns a little, hating her self-admonishment, "The kid was touched. It's just – you know – no one has ever gone to bat for him or done things like this. I think he's worried he'll wake up, or that he's gonna out stay his welcome or something – ,"

His mother huffs,

"No chance of that, you tell him that he can stay for as long as he needs to, he's a sweet little boy."

"Where you saying that just now?"

His father looks up from another mouth of sweet tea which he is grimacing through so to not offend Roman's mom,

"When?"

"When I walked into the room and you were whispering, like you maybe didn't want him to hear?"

Roman eyes his parents very steadily, gaze bouncing between them as his mother lets out a sigh. Each of them knows that she's the one who will break first and so his father steps in and saves his wife the arduous task,

"Legal emancipation of a minor."

Roman blinks at him, then again,

"I – _what_?"

"That's what I've been thinking might be the best option, for Dean to legally cast his father aside."

"Is that – is that possible?"

"Technically certainly, but when it comes to it in practise it's a difficult thing."

"Your father thinks Dean might have a good case though."

At some point his mother has abandoned the washing up and has come to stand in front of them hands wringing and looking wildly keen. The older man nods,

"I figure he has as good a chance as any, if you still have those pictures you told me about?"

Roman's mind is spinning like he's working the circus, balancing plates then trying to stop them falling down, so it takes him a second to fathom what his father wants from him, although when his brain figures it, he gets it in full.

"The photographs of the injuries and the list of when they happened? They're back in the office."

His father nods,

"That's good. If this going to work – if Dean even _wants_ it – then he's going to need a couple of things on top. The first is proof that his father's an unfit guardian, which those pictures will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt. Then he's going to need somewhere to live, which he has now and he's going to need an income, which _you_ gave him a few months back."

Roman sucks a breath in, trying to comprehend things and knowing that this route means Dean standing up in court. It also might mean facing down his father and Roman wants to protect him from that at all costs.

"What about the court order we've already got for him. Isn't that enough?"

"It's temporary, that's all."

"How about adoption?"

He doesn't rehearse that, it just comes out and his parents sort of stop and look across the counter fully startled. His father shifts around,

"We don't _know_ him son."

"Yes you do Pop, Dean is _Dean_ , what you see is what you get."

There's a weird pregnant pause and his father sucks a breath, not really sure although his mother doesn't move. Roman already knows that she would have him in a heartbeat like every waif and stray the sweetheart woman has ever found. They once shared their house with an actual magpie when she found the thing injured and nursed it back to health. Not that they could get the damn bird to leave afterwards. They were scrubbing white crap off the sofas for _weeks._ His father though? Well, his father is harder and although he clearly cares about Dean's health – he has gone and got the court order after all – he is obviously more convinced about a long-term dependency and although it kind of _hurts_ , Roman can at least respect that.

In fact, he's just about to come right out and _say_ it when there is a sudden, deeply panicked sounding shout from upstairs.

" _No_ – _no_ , get _off_ me, let _go_ of me – ,"

His blood chills instantly like ice fragments.

 _Shit._

"Dean?"

The three of them are up the stairs in an instant in a frantic procession of hearts-in-mouths and rushing feet. Roman is first, streaking lightyears ahead of them and mentally debating what in the hell could have gone wrong. Has Dean's father followed them and broken in somehow to continue to torture and beat on his son? Or is somebody else taking their turn to torment him? Roman slides into the room.

 _Nothing._

No one is there and there are no dark shadows hiding in the corners although there _is_ a very distressed Dean on the bed, thrashing around, his legs twisting in the bed sheets as he tries to battle the assailant in his dream.

"Roman?"

His mother comes racing in behind him, then stops in doorway,

"It's okay, he's fine mom, it's just – it's just a nightmare,"

"Oh, the poor sweetheart."

But she doesn't come any further, clearly not wanting to make things worse and instead it is down to Roman to cross the distance, which he does in what amounts to three big strides, approaching the bed and placing hands on Dean's shoulders to shake him very gently,

"Dean? Come on uce."

The teenager's face screws up and he throws out his hands with a terrified yelp,

"Let me go – I won't tell – promise I'll give you all of the money – please don't tie me up – _no_."

Roman shuts his eyes.

 _Crap._

"Uce, wake up now, it's Roman, it's over, you're safe alright? _Uce_ – ,"

He times the last frantic sounding shout with a shaking and all at once the tear-studded blue eyes open up. Dean's sweaty body stills in almost an instant but Roman knows that it's from fear and not from relief. Swiftly dropping his hands from the shoulders he palms the bangs back and takes a seat on the bed, aiming to make himself smaller and less threatening in the hopes it will help.

"R-R'man?"

"It's alright."

"What – what happened?" Dean's voice is small, "Where am I?"

"You're at my mom and dad's house, remember? You live here now."

Dean blinks once and then perhaps three or four times but slowly though it seems he can recall things again and the tension in his trembling body fades slightly although doesn't go completely with doesn't really surprise him. Roman's parents are still hovering in the doorway, but Dean seems not to notice which is probably a good thing.

"Oh, I – yeah,"

"You wanna talk about it?"

The teenager hesitates, then looks down and licks his lips. His gaze moves across to the band around his wrist again and they can both hear him shouting the words _don't tie me up_. It takes Roman everything he has not to grumble, or turn around and put a damn foot through the wall but he manages to maintain a look of even platitude that in turn seems to give Dean the strength to go on,

"I was – I was back in the house again – _my_ house – ,"

"Was your father there?"

Roman knows that he was, but somehow trying to tease out the details seems kinder than letting Dean recite them on his own and that hunch pays off as Dean nods jerkily and shudders a breath in,

"Uh h-huh, he was h-hittin' me – ,"

"Why?"

Dean looks up at the older man suddenly and there is hurt etched into every last inch of his gaze,

"He f-found out about me w-working in the gym for you, t-thought I was h-holdin' out on him."

"You mean your wages?"

"Y-yeah."

Dean's whole system is still working on terror and he's fighting back the tears which want – and need – to bust out, but the kid fights them down like the scrapper he's always been and that makes Roman ridiculously proud.

"So that's why he did this?"

"Never seen him so angry," Dean answers instead, by way of a _yes_ , "An' he g-gets angry _a lot_."

"I know it," Roman picks a wrist up, "What about these?"

He's talking about the red bands and the teenager freezes, which makes Roman briefly wonder if he's pushed it too far but to his credit the kid simply swallows a lump down and drops his blue eyes,

"He – he tied me to a door," Dean spits suddenly, the words rushing out of him and flowing into one, "So I didn't run off and he could keep on – keep on – ,"

 _Beating me._

He doesn't need to say it and so Roman palms the hair,

"Alright, it's alright."

The gazes swings back up to him and the desperation in it takes Roman by surprise. Sometimes Dean is like a proper little adult but at other times he is unmistakeably still a child.

"I tried okay Roman? I tried _so hard_ to fight back. I kicked him and everythin' but I couldn't get out."

This time the tears do splash against his cheekbones but silently as Dean very quietly falls apart. By all rights the kid should probably be sobbing but he isn't although he's miles away from calm. In psychology terms it's doubtful that Roman should try to hug him, but in reality that's exactly what the bigger man does. He sweeps the shaking youth in against him and holds him there, grumbling,

"It's alright, I know you tried."

From over Dean's head, Roman drinks in his parents and particularly his mother who is crying in the door. His father has a hand on her shoulder but himself is looking unusually misty eyed. Dean still seems not to have noticed their presence and as his arms fold round Roman, the older couple step off, giving the pair some much needed privacy and neither needing to see Dean totally break.

"He h-hates me s-so much,"

Roman's arms tighten fiercely,

"Not your fault uce, you've done nothin' wrong."

"Can't be your _uce_ ," Dean mumbles against him, the words thick and teary, "Not your family."

"Yes you are. I mean, maybe not by _blood_ but none of that matters because you _are_ my little brother and that's just the way it goes."

Dean snuffles roughly,

"M' gonna wake up right? Be back there again?"

Roman snorts at him,

"No."

"You sure 'bout that? 'Cos this all is too – like – perfect. This room, your parents, your mom buyin' me new clothes. Don't deserve this kinda shit from anyone – ,"

"Hey," Roman huffs, "You deserve it all and more."

Dean's fingers tighten slightly around him, bundling up the fabric of Roman's sleeveless shirt,

"I can't let him get me again – ,"

"You won't have to. I'm your court ordered older brother now, alright? That's _my_ job."

He means that too – on that fact he's unflinching – Dean's asshole father is a walking dead man.

* * *

 **Sorry Dean, so, so sorry! But how he can he** _ **not**_ **have nightmares after everything he's been through? I mean, it stands to reason, right?**

 **Next installment, Dean has to face a part of his past but gets to close a chapter too.**


	17. Seventeen

**Time for Dean to put (some of) the past behind him...okay, so maybe just a tiny bit!**

 **Stingerette1975, Would you like me to start bulk-buying tissues to send round to your house?! Yeah, the nightmares do rumble on for a while. As for his legal future? You'll have wait to find out!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Aww, I'm sure Teen Dean would very much appreciate your hugs! But you're right, I figured he would have to have nightmares considering everything he's seen and had to bear.**

 **Mandy, The slow update thing was the worst, robbed my momentum, but, hey ho I guess. Roman's mom is so cute, I needed her to be fluffy and warm! As ever, thanks for your thoughts!**

 **Sodapop25, Thank you my lovely, updates all written, just in the process of being meticulously edited and fussed over now, which is easily the worst part of writing stories by far!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Roman hasn't just adopted Dean mentally, he's pressed him into his oversized heart. Protective Roman is life, am I right? It is an emotional chapter. Let me know if you guessed it!**

 **Minnie1015, Roman and Dean's dad meet in the not too distant future, so that's something for you to look forward to I'm sure! Yeah, out poor Teen Dean needs all the loving he can get!**

 **June3law, Roman is totally the model big brother here, even more so for the fact that he and Dean aren't even related. He's just too teddy bearish for his own good sometimes (all the time!)**

 **Skovko, I can neither confirm nor deny what happens to Dean by the end of this story! Although Roman's father is going to keep on softening towards his new charge. How could he not?!**

 **BankonReigns83, Yep, over halfway, but I've saved the best for last and the last ten chapters have a lot going on. Plus there is always a sequel if you want it? I'm not done with these boys yet!**

 **There's no place like...**

* * *

 **Seventeen.**

Two days after Dean officially moves in with them, the police phone to say he can go and get his stuff. Evidently they've done all the detective work they can do – or possibly _want_ to do – and are reopening the house. Roman tells Dean who tenses just a little, the blue eyes widening,

"Have they found my dad?"

"Not yet uce, but they're workin' on it, promise."

Only Roman's kind of _lying_ on that because he largely gets the feeling that the cops aren't too bothered. Poor abused teenager beaten up by crappy father and now kept in luxury. For them it's _case closed_ although for Dean it is still an ever present nightmare in which his father and his fists might show up at any point. Roman moves back into his old teenage bedroom – shunning his apartment – in order to stay close and the cruel thing is that Dean is very nearly _relaxing_ and starting to settle in before they get that damn call.

"Hey," Roman intones, calmly and evenly as Dean fidgets nervously in his seat at the breakfast bar, "Nobody is gonna make you go back if you don't want to. Write me a list and I'll do it, you hear?"

He had come home from having stopped off at the office to find Dean busy baking cakes with his mom and frankly it's probably the nicest part of the process, seeing the fierce bond the two of them have formed. His mother – for her part – dives straight back into mothering and needs little reacquaintance with nurturing a teen and although Dean is slower and understandably more hesitant he accepts the cosseting with an ever growing ease. There's a sad sort of wonder when the kid glances at her, as if he cannot begin to believe that she's real or like maybe she's the mother that deep down he's always dreamed of and that by strokes warms and also _breaks_ Roman's heart.

"No," Dean mumbles, his fingers still sticky from a mixing bowl of dough and dark chocolate chips, "I'll come, you ain't gonna know what you're lookin' for and you'll stay too – the whole time, right?"

Roman nods,

"Not leavin' you for a second."

Dean wipes his hands resolutely,

"Then let's go."

The car journey there is pretty darn quiet and so Roman tries to fill it with what is basically mindless chat. After almost a week away, he had been back into the office and had been dealing with _more_ paperwork when the police had called in. He doesn't tell Dean that part of the process but he _does_ pass on the comments and well-wishes from the staff, lingering over one in particular that he hopes will change the mood,

"Sasha asked after you,"

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh, she said she _hoped you got back quickly_ and then I'm pretty sure she actually winked – ,"

"At you?"

"At me, but it was _definitely_ for you uce – you know – I think you might be wearin' her down."

Dean snorts at that but his gaze drops back down again as he continues to worry a loose skin thread by his thumb. Roman doesn't stop him – although part of him wants to because the kid doesn't need any _more_ god damn wounds – but the deeper they drive into the unforgiving neighborhood, the more antsy _he_ feels, never mind Dean.

The house itself doesn't look any different except for a fluttering forgotten stream of police tape, which ruffles in the breeze like some jaunty parade banner instead of a warning for local folk to keep away. As they pull up kerbside, Dean gasps a little and then tries to turn it into a hidden little cough. It's obvious he doesn't want to seem _frightened_ and Roman admires that, even though he clearly is. The blue eyes flicker over the weatherboards and search out the windows for movement inside and his chest begins to heave up and down in terror as his breathing rate increases.

Roman seizes his wrist,

"Hey, it's okay uce, you don't have to go in there. You can wait it out here, doesn't change anything."

The teenager blinks and looks back at him with conflict, but he swallows down the fear and then boldly shakes his head,

"No, I want – I want to go in there, I need to – sort of – _see_ it. Does that make any sense?"

He winces a little as he offers out the question, almost as if he thinks that Roman might laugh, but the bigger man merely palms the scruffy locks fondly and snorts back with pride,

"Of course it does man."

Even so Dean crosses the threshold pretty slowly after another twenty minutes building his nerve up in the car. The brightness of the day is starting to turn to dusk again, with the barest hints of grey creeping in across the sky. Roman is absolutely not prepared to hurry him but he doesn't really want to be there come the night. If Dean's old man is ever going to stagger back again, then Roman is convinced it will be when it is dark and the last thing they want is him stumbling across them.

Or maybe it isn't.

It's almost what Roman _wants_.

He isn't there though – Dean's asshole of a father – which Roman confirms after a quick scout around. Throughout it all Dean sticks close like a shadow and Roman can almost _hear_ the kid's heartbeat it's so loud. They scan the lounge and then troop up the staircase before carefully checking each and every last door. It doesn't take long since it isn't a big house and once it's clear that the place is really empty, Dean slips by and scurries ahead, letting himself through the last door not opened and back into the space he has always called his own.

Roman blinks at it.

Dean's room is _tiny_ , not to mention sparsely furnished and pretty damn cold. One window casement doesn't fit properly and so there is essentially a howling gale shrieking round. It whips across the space and whistles at the window until the silence is broken by its never ending scream. Dean however seems not to notice too much since he's mostly too busy quietly moving around. There's a hoodie in his hand which he spreads across the bedsheets before dropping some items down onto its front. A watch, a couple of well-thumbed library books, Dean's wallet – well hidden beneath the middle of the mattress – and a few other items he seems to need or want.

There's a very brief flicker of uncertain hesitation before Roman watches him add two more things. The first is a well-loved and pretty moth-eaten teddy bear, which is bright blue with a white chest and pretty weird looking eyes. It's nose is crooked and its thinning around the arm stumps but it's obvious from the inclusion that it means a lot to Dean and quite frankly the kid has so little else to take with him that if he wanted _eight_ teddies then it is more than fine by him.

The second item that Dean seems to need to have to think about appears to be a photo album of sorts. It's small and flimsy looking – not to mention half empty – but the shots that _are_ in there briefly appear to make Dean pause. Feeling eyes on him, he looks up at Roman and pulls a wry face,

"Guess I don't need this anymore."

"Does it have some good memories?"

Dean blinks,

"Maybe a couple, before everythin' went to shit and they started hatin' me instead,"

He means his folks and just the _mention_ makes Roman angry although he steadies himself because that's not what Dean needs. Besides which everything that has happened to him has _happened_ which means good _and_ bad things. He can't write his history off. Roman reaches over and plucks the album from his fingers before dropping it down onto the hoodie with a shrug,

"You might want to look at it someday."

"You figure?"

"Maybe it'll show you how far you've come."

"Huh."

The argument seems to settle Dean slightly and he sets about tying the hoodie in knots, looping through the arms and then twisting the bottom until he has fashioned a knapsack which keeps everything in. Roman watches him doing it silently but his eyes are sharp,

"You done this before?"

It isn't a question so much as a statement and the kid looks up at him, scratching his neck and suddenly seeming sort of _awkward_ about it,

"I – uh – I _kinda_ tried to run away after my mom left, an' things got sorta difficult round here. Never really made it very far away though. Old man would always find me an' drag me back again."

The use of the word _drag_ isn't wasted on Roman, who practically winces as he pictures the scene. Putting his hand out, he wraps it round Dean's shoulder, tugging him gently towards the door,

"You good to go?"

"I – ," Dean pauses a little, "I think so."

The blue eyes blink around the place seeming dazed. Roman isn't sure if it's a happy or sad thing but on reflection it's probably somewhere in between. The kid must have dreamt of walking out of there for _years_ now but actually doing it is a very different thing. At some point surely he must have been happy, or at least contented – the photo album proves that – so it's no damn wonder that his head is all jacked up, although eventually he nods,

"Let's get out of here."

They tread a path down the stairs back to the hallway and are about to leave for good when Dean suddenly stops, freezing so abruptly that Roman walks into the back of him and bangs the soft tissue which draws a pained grunt. They had worked out on a very long _day two_ in the hospital that his father's frantic beatings hadn't been solely to his front and as a result Dean had been given a slightly bruised kidney which evidently would see a glamorous spell of peeing blood.

"Uce? What's wrong?"

Dean is looking through the living room, his body trembling lightly but it isn't from alarm. Following his gaze Roman expects to see his father, or at least something physical that has caused him to halt. Instead however there isn't a scrap of anything, just the door to the kitchen where –

 _Oh._

Roman works it out.

"You want to go look?"

He asks the question lightly in case he's got it wrong and Dean totally freaks out, but all he gets in response is a head nod, offered very quickly like he isn't quite sure.

"Uh – uh huh."

"Hey, I'll be right with you," Roman soothes evenly, "You're not doin' this alone."

Together they inch across the stained lounge carpet and towards the door jamb where Roman first saw Dean's hand, lying across the tiles both bloodied and unmoving and remembering it makes his stomach pitch and sort of _turn_. For his part Dean seems equally hesitant and possibly on the edge of a panic attack, but despite his wheezy breathing the kid keeps on moving and so Roman keeps pace until they hit the tainted room. For some strange reason that Roman can't figure, he had sort of expected the police to clean up. To have maybe wiped away the gruesome looking blood pool or the dotted red splashes which they damn well _haven't_ done. Each gory fleck of Dean's torture is still in evidence and as Roman looks around, so is the outdoor twine as well. It's cast off and half hidden underneath a cupboard but it's still knotted in the middle and he instantly knows why.

This is the rope that bound Dean's wrists together and had driven in that ugly red mark.

A shiver of anger courses through his system and he glances towards the kid wondering whether or not he's seen as well. Although as it turns out whether Dean can see _anything_ is pretty much a debatable point. He's certainly _looking_ around the room in bewilderment but it doesn't really feel like he's taking it in. He seems like he's standing on the set of some movie, or has stumbled upon the real life setting of a dream. He's trembling though – in fact he's _vibrating_ – and his bruised and battered face is fast turning red. A tear dribbles out all at once and then another and so Roman drags him close,

"Come on uce, let's go home."

 _Home._

He feels Dean's muscles twitch beneath him but it isn't a frightened thing, it's a centring move. Almost like the kid is releasing a wave of tension that has been bottled up tightly.

"Yeah," Dean breathes out, "Home."

* * *

 **Next chapter, Dean gets to meet the rest of Roman's family, things are going to be...um...** _ **loud**_ **. How do Roman's sisters take to the newcomer and how does he handle himself around so many new folks?**

 **One way to find out, right? See you on the upload!**


	18. Eighteen

**Big old family dinner then, unleash the sisters!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Well, Roman's sisters definitely take after their old man more than their mother, but hopefully you will like them by the end of this story (maybe even this chapter if I've done things halfway right!)**

 **Sodapop25, Wow, don't think I've had a _bravo_ before, so thanks for that my dear! Don't worry about the updates either, plenty coming, this story train is a rolling!**

 **Mandy, Oh no, the flu sucks! I hope you're resting with chocolate and cakes and lots of lovely unhealthy things?! My mum's results come through on Tuesday, so here's hoping we get the news we want.**

 **Stingerette1975, Yep, Dean did get to take back some control, and his personal growth continues in this one as well, not a whole lot perhaps but he's at least getting a little more confident now!**

 **Guest, Well, you're right he gets himself all worried, because there are suddenly a whole bunch of people there, but hopefully he manages to handle it okay. You'll just have to read it and tell me what you think!**

 **June3law, Roman wasn't going to be leaving him for a second in that last one, and that also goes for this chapter too. Not the same sense of danger here, but a big deal for Dean nevertheless!**

 **Minnie1015, Haha, no, that would have been too obvious having Dean's old man show up then, I want him to come right out of the blue when you're not expecting and surprise you all *cackles evilly to herself***

 **SkittlezLvr79, Yay, well done on your hunch and as for hunch two? Well, I think we all know his father is coming, but hopefully when he does it will be more of a suprise and take you all unawares...maybe?!**

 **Skovko, Well if there's one thing Dean needs then it's definitely closure, and a whole heap of it with some more on top. But you know me, I like my angst so it might be a while before he gets to have that!**

 **Wwe21, Wonder no longer because here come the sisters and all their assorted husband's and children too! Yep, Dean's father is still on the loose somewhere. When do you think I'll bring him back?!**

 **Rebel8954, Mama Reigns is fierce for her children. I'm actually writing a sequel (premature I know since I don't know if anyone will want to read it) where I want that to come out a little bit more! I love my Mama Reigns!**

 **Ring the dinner gong, gang's all here!**

* * *

 **Eighteen.**

Reigns family dinners are usually cacophonous with screaming kids and sisters and everything in between. After a lifetime spent having them, Roman's pretty used to it but he is starkly aware that for Dean's it's all new which is initially why he tries to postpone it although Dean won't let him,

"C' mon, I'll be fine bro."

 _Bro._

There is it again, that familiar little moniker that lets Roman know that Dean is slowly settling in. Since collecting his stuff – or what little there was of it – the teenager has started to smile a bit more. He flashes that cheeky little grin at Roman's mother which makes her melt and give him anything he wants, which is usually seconds of whatever they have for dinner and sometimes even three portions of dessert which the older woman squares away easily by protesting that Dean needs to put on a lot more weight. Even Roman's father is not immune to Dean's charisma as they all find out on the fifth night in, when the teenager asks a little more about their heritage and his father spreads out an atlas and _gets down on the floor_. They spend the next hour charting the islands while his father regales Dean with tales of their culture and more. Roman can't even tell if Dean is genuinely curious or simply being clever to get the older man on side. Either way, it ends with the Reigns patriarch smiling and at one point he even ruffles Dean's hair. When he looks up, the kid is glowing and Roman snorts at him.

"Well played uce, well played."

The Reigns family sisters however are different in that there are a whole damn _lot_ of them and then screaming kids as well. Drip feeding new family members is one thing but Roman isn't sure about them descending all at once, which is why Dean walks in to the middle of a conference about putting off the raucous weekly gathering for once. He won't let them do it – at all – which they appreciate but Roman can't help but worry he's bitten off more than he knows.

"You sure?"

"Sure m' sure."

Roman's father slaps the table,

"That's settled then, the family dinner is back on."

Even so Roman's various relatives are each phoned in turn and given a list of what not to say. For example, school or any mention of Dean's father or living arrangements and not at _all_ about his face. For the most part Dean's bruises are starting to yellow and the scuffs and cuts are beginning to scab up. He still looks like he's been caught in a mincer though which he evidently realizes as the night itself looms up. Roman finds him looking in the mirror and wincing at himself,

"Hey, you alright?"

Dean doesn't turn around, but they lock eyes in the reflection and Dean sighs a little,

"They're gonna think m' Frankenstein."

Roman snorts in return,

"Not for a second, I mean, _that_ guy had bolts and was taller and kinda green."

"Haha,"

"Damn right, you know I'm hilarious," Roman sobers slightly, "Hey, you havin' second thoughts? Because if you just wanna stay up here for the evenin', no one's gonna think any less of you, okay?"

Dean sucks a breath in,

"No I – I gotta do this. I mean, your mom's down there all excited and stuff and besides, your sisters all probably wanna meet me and make sure I'm – like – not takin' advantage of your folks – ,"

Roman frowns, interrupting him gently,

"They know you're not. Hell, you've met my old man, bein' takin' advantage of ain't really his style."

Dean smiles wryly,

"Yeah, maybe not."

He sighs again but it's muted by the doorbell and even from the hallway, Roman sees Dean tense up. It is going to be a very long night for him and they are all on tenterhooks but especially Dean. Blowing a breath out, Roman smiles across at him, waving him out with a casual hand,

"Here goes nothin' then, ready to go down there?"

Dean nods jerkily, uncertainly,

"Uh, yeah."

He crosses the room and under the lamplight, his bruises seem to get brighter again. He's smiling though – well, okay, it's a grimace – but he's trying to be brave and Roman appreciates it from him. There's already a bunch of noise bouncing up at them and ricocheting loudly up each and every step. Dean sort of blinks in response to the cacophony and Roman slings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close,

"Anyone says anything that makes you uncomfortable, you give me a nod an' I'll take 'em out."

Dean chuckles lightly,

"You mean kill 'em?"

"If I have to."

"But dude, they're you're family."

Roman shrugs,

"So are you."

Despite their misgivings, Roman's sisters react appropriately, or at least as appropriately as the Reigns genes allow. They're pretty overbearing though and sort of crowd around Dean, all trying to shake his hand, hug him and introduce their clans. Roman hovers close by, watching Dean intently and marking the exact moment that Dean begins to forget their names. It isn't surprising, there are fifteen new people – all ages and sizes – to add into his brain although luckily Roman's mom keeps the teen pressed close against her, acting almost like a buffer and shooing relatives away.

"For goodness sakes give the poor boy a moment, his head must be spinning, go on now, sit down."

In a masterpiece of hostessing she corals them to the table and gets them all seated in near record time. Dean is installed across the table from Roman and sandwiched between his mother and a calm brother-in-law. It's clear she has thought a lot about the placement and so when she catches Roman's eye, he gives her a nod. She smiles back winningly and Dean – for his part – seems to be pretty contented as well. His gaze darts up to Roman on occasion, when the conversation or laughter suddenly gets too loud, but for the most part he wears a quizzical expression, which borders on spellbound or else baffled or both. Clearly he's never had a big family meal before and although he's largely silent, he still laps it up.

In fact, everything appears to be going pretty swimmingly.

Until Roman's bossy seven year old niece pipes up, eyeing Dean steadily right across the table and sounding imperious,

"Who beated you up?"

Instantly everyone around them falls silent and there is veritable ripple of adult-based alarm. Roman's gaze quickly slides to where the teen is and he watches as Dean swallows a mouthful with haste. He looks surprised and then all at once sheepish like the bruises are _his_ fault which – god damn it – they're not.

As Roman goes to counter however – along with his mother and each and every sister too – Dean beats them to it and answers it easily, the response so outlandish and completely unexpected that pretty much the entire crowded table dies down.

"I got into a fight with a guy stealin' a unicorn, didn't want him to snatch it away."

Roman blinks then smiles in amazement.

Dean has pulled it off again and – okay, so granted – it's an unusual rejoinder but in terms of who's asking, it's a pretty safe bet. Roman's little niece is an obsessive about unicorns which is evidenced clearly by the get up she's in. Her t-shirt is studded with little winged horses and she's even got a unicorn headband in place, complete with ears and a pink horn and everything so from the moment the words leave him, the young girl is rapt.

"Really?"

"Uh huh," Dean shrugs back brightly, "Can't let people get away with that stuff."

"You can see unicorns?"

"Sure, so can anyone, the thing is that you just gotta know where to look."

By this time Dean has got every kid listening, including the boys and ones who should be too old. They're not though in that moment and instead all eyes are on him, which strangely seems to make the teenager calm. He seems to get kids and just have a shorthand with them, like he's treating them the way he wished someone would have done to him. Glancing around, Roman drinks in the adults and – sure enough – their eyes are all glued on him as well.

"Where?" Roman's niece asks, bouncing on the dining chair, "Where do you look for them?"

"In a field of course, I mean, mostly they try and disguise 'emselves as horses, to stop people from tryin' a' steal their magical horns, so what you do is you go up to 'em and be firm y' know? Say _stop pretendin', I know what you are._ "

"Does that work?"

"Sure, an' if you look – like – _really_ closely, then you can see the horn an' everythin' – if you believe in 'em."

In the stunned sort of silence Roman's niece gapes in wonder and turns to her mother with desperately pleading eyes,

"That true Mama?"

Roman's sister pauses mildly and then smiles in amusement,

"Of course it is baby girl."

Dean meanwhile simply ducks his head back down again and continues with his meal without even looking up. Whether he knows he's being watched is debatable but it is likely and so Roman's sweet mother claps her hands, drawing her family's collective attention and then smiling briskly,

"Well, who's for dessert?"

After the meal the kids skitter off again and leave the adults to chat amongst themselves. Dean has gone back to not really talking but is starting to look sleepy so Roman knows he's nearly done. The kid's fragile body is still all kinds of battered and he needs a lot of rest – as the doctors have forewarned – a family meal therefore is a big deal and pretty exhausting.

Hell, Roman's tired too.

His siblings are great but they're a whole lot to handle and sadly it seems his eldest sister is not done because suddenly she leans directly across the table and offers out a question,

"So Dean, tell me, what's the plan?"

For a second everyone sort of stares back at her and Dean's earlier statement floats through Roman's mind. The whole deal about him takin' advantage which – judging from Dean's face – is what he assumes she means as well.

"Um, what?"

Fortunately however – thank god – they're both off base as his sister soon clarifies,

"When you grow up. Sorry if that's a bit of a mom question but I'm just curious about what you want to do. What would you be if you could do anything? Apart from a unicorn wrangler of course."

She smiles as she says it and throws a tiny wink in and Roman blows a breath out he didn't realize had been trapped. Her opening sentence could have gone either way but she's kept things simple and he's grateful for that.

"Uh," Dean pauses and it suddenly occurs to Roman that probably no one has ever asked him that before. No one has ever cared enough about his future to find out what he wants or if he's made any plans. In fact the strange sort of look on Dean's expression is enough to confirm to Roman that he's right and although that makes him massively angry, the look of pure thoughtfulness on Dean's face is nice, "I – I'd like to stay at the gym, y' know? Maybe be the boxing coach so I can teach the kids."

Roman smiles in response and on instinct because it's great that he still sees the gym as safe space. It's good to think that Dean feels like he belongs there and wants to eke that out for as long as he can. Theoretically it should be a bolstering moment, but his sister snorts dryly, unable to help herself,

"The gym? You don't want to do something more exciting?"

It comes out harsh – far harsher than she intends it, as Roman can tell from the way her jaw clenches up – but it doesn't really matter because it still assaults the airspace and Dean sort of flinches and drops his gaze down.

 _Shit._

If his sister can't feel him glaring across the table then she can definitely feel the daggers of their mom, who looks horrified in the newly awkward silence and lost and upset for the teenager all at once. Someone – Roman thinks it might be his sister's husband – boots the speaker in the shin from beneath the tablecloth and suddenly the whole place is filled with stolen glances and bafflement as they try to decide what to say next.

What they don't expect – and that includes Roman – is for Dean to once again answer for himself, shrugging a little, his eyes still on his placemat and his voice kind of hesitant but there nonetheless.

"Maybe it isn't – like – _excitin'_ but I like helpin' people learn stuff they don't know. M' not really book smart so I can't be a teacher but the gym feels pretty like it, an' it makes me happy, y' know?"

Again there is another startled sort of silence but this time it's bursting with pleasure as well. Roman is literally buzzing with _big brother_ vibes and his mother is glowing too as she squeezes Dean's hand,

"Well, I know you'll make a wonderful job of it. You must be the best member of staff the gym has."

Roman nods,

"Yeah and he knows it."

Dean's head rises again very mildly but it's still just enough to reveal the quirky grin. Thankfully Roman's foot-in-mouth prone sister hasn't gravely wounded him and that's a massive relief. From the head of the table, Roman's father leans back heavily, making the chair struts creak at his back. He stretches out his legs in post-meal happiness and winks across at Roman,

"Might make him manager, what do you think?"

"I think he'll have to come through me to get it."

Dean's tongue pokes out in response,

"Bring it on."

Luckily the teasing lightens the moods dramatically and the rest of the evening is a comfortable one. About an hour later Roman's mother takes charge again in response to Dean yawning and sends him off up to bed. The teenager goes looking relieved and dog-tired but still has the presence of mind to say goodbye, both to the assorted adults and the children, including the unicorn obsessive who adds in a hug. It hurts him – Roman can tell by the wincing – but Dean returns it with a chuckle and doesn't let on, doing that same fond hair ruffling that Roman does and which he seems to have adopted as a gesture of love. The sister who very nearly dropped the ball earlier, comments on it to him once the teenager is gone, swirling the last of the red in her wine glass and smiling almost fondly,

"Seems like a nice kid."

"Yeah," Roman nods, settling back against the sofa and letting his eyes droop contentedly, "He is."

* * *

 **So I've got another visit to the hospital on Tuesday but it shouldn't effect my update I hope. If it does for whatever reason then I apologize now but in meantime please keep your fingers crossed for good news!**

 **Next chapter it's back to the gym!**


	19. Nineteen

**Thought it was time I do something nice for our poor teenager, so here it is, I like when he smiles!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, I based Roman's sisters on my family, who are forthright and overbearing but still full of love and won't let you turn it down much either. Thanks for your well wishes, means a lot.**

 **Stingerette1975, Yeah, but wasn't it only a matter of time before Roman's dad succumbed to Dean's charms? No one can resist our blue eyed scruffy teenager! He has the natural gift of charm!**

 **Mandy, It's less scary for Dean to talk to kids I think, because they'll be less likely to judge. Plus, I mean, who doesn't love unicorns?! Thank you for your prayers *gives a big hug***

 **SkittlezLvr79, Sounds like you went through the same emotions as Roman during dinner in the last chapter then?! Dean is definitely stronger than he realizes, but he's still just an itty bitty baby too!**

 **Minnie1015, Dean likes keeping things simple in this story, he feels safe around kids and Roman and that's it, so the gym is his haven. That's why we're going back there! Thanks for your wishes.**

 **Wwe21, I think Dean is really careful to make sure kids are getting the sort of kindness he never got when he was younger, so he's super sweet with them. Glad you're still loving it!**

 **Skovko, Yep, our battered little teenager would have slept real good after his big family dinner, but he did himself proud! Plus, he wasn't going to let himself get pushed around!**

 **3, 2, 1...**

* * *

 **Nineteen.**

A week and a half to the day that Roman found him beaten on the floor, Dean goes back to work. Not in the full sense – he's not medically cleared yet – but as a flying visit to see how everybody is. Which is something that Dean has specifically asked for since he's started to go kinda _crazy_ stuck at home, spending his days either watching the telly, sleeping or making cakes with Roman's mom.

Roman agrees to it – glad that Dean wants out again, because it hopefully means some of the fear is dying off – but the closer they drive to the actual building, the twitchier the teenager seems to become. His fingers curl frantically and fiercely around each other or rise up and tap at his collarbone like a drum. As they drive into the parking lot, Roman actually grabs one and stills the motion physically,

"Hey uce, what's goin' on?"

Dean blinks, startled, like he hasn't even noticed it and then shuffles from the grip as today is clearly a _no touching_ day. He has those sometimes, when the memories are most violent and he doesn't trust others, not Roman and not himself. To begin with these _shifts_ sort of mildly offended Roman but he gets it now and respects the kid's need, besides which they're becoming less and less frequent. Which is why the fact that he's so damn antsy is like a red flashing light.

 _Something's wrong, something's wrong._

"Nothin', m' good," Dean shrugs, lying badly and Roman snorts at him,

"I'll need better than that."

In response to him Dean sort of _huffs_ just a little and continues to worry at the skin on his thumb. For a moment Roman isn't even sure the kid will answer but then he shifts in his seat and does exactly that,

"I don't want – I don't want them thinkin' I'm pathetic."

Roman frowns,

" _Nobody_ thinks you're pathetic, _no one_ and especially not anyone in there – you're their buddy."

"Who got the livin' shit pretty much beaten outta him."

"So?"

" _So_ – ," Dean grumbles, "No one else would. I bet everyone in there would have – like – _fought out of it_ and not let it happen. Don't want 'em thinkin' I'm all weak. Don't want 'em thinkin' I'm some dumb kid who can't defend himself and gets thrown around and stuff like that."

He finishes with a little snort of derision which evidently shows what he thinks about himself and although Roman's first reaction is to deny it – or even laugh it off – he decides it's best not. After all, Dean is obviously feeling self-conscious and grinning in his face is probably not a smart move, so instead he turns in his seat until Dean looks at him and then takes a deep breath,

"Uce? That is _not_ what they think and I know it's easy for me to sit here and say that, but it's not what they think because it's not what _I_ think and it's not what my parents think or any of my sisters. No one in the world would ever say you were weak. Hell, after everything you've been through you're pretty much a _hero_. You don't got a cape but you've got everything else. The people in that gym? Trust me, they love you which means the only thing you're gonna get is a tonne of concern. Your father has already taken so damn much from you, don't let him take this away from you as well."

Dean blinks a little, drinking Roman's words in and digesting what is possibly the first pep talk he's ever had. It takes a little while but he finally responds to it and his lips tug up in a ghost of a smile,

"You think I'm a hero?"

"Yeah," Roman snorts, " _Charisma Man_ , stealing moms' hearts and having 'em bake cakes for him."

Dean sort of grunts but it's a sound of amusement and he nods resolutely,

"I think I can live with that."

Roman snaps his belt off and opens the truck door up, revealed when Dean copies.

"You ready to go in?"

They cross the parking lot as quickly as is possible since a bitter winter wind is whipping in around their feet, swirling across the concrete like a hurricane of iciness and chilling their airways until they splutter and cough. Still, at least Dean is finally wrapped up warmly in a thick padded jacket carefully bought by Roman's mom. He's also in new shoes which he had originally tried not to be until Mama Reigns had forcibly thrown his old ones out. They're not quite as nice as the sneakers in his locker but they don't have any holes so they're an upgrade right away. They're also cheap – which is entirely why Dean picked them – so by and large, Roman figures, everyone wins. They even squeak a little in that glorious _new shoe_ way as the pair of them enter the gym through the back doors. Usually, the place would be active and sort of humming but today there's nothing and Dean frowns,

"It's so – _quiet_."

"Uh huh," Roman nods, trying not to give the game away and stepping off so Dean can't see his face, "Guess they must be setting somethin' up somewhere."

"On a _Wednesday_?" Dean counters, "Ain't nothin' to set up."

"Isn't there?

"No."

At this point Dean is almost trotting beside him and struggling to match Roman's extra-long strides. It makes him wince as it pulls at his ribcage which is still pretty bruised and Roman notes it and slows down. It's difficult though because inside he is bubbling with energy and excitement about what is to come. They draw up in front of a set of wooden entrance doors leading them into the open center of the gym, where they hold the keep fit and occasional spin classes.

Roman waves a hand,

"After you uce, go on in."

Dean blinks back at him, clearly thinking he's gone crazy but he slides past and pushes his way through the doors. The noise that booms back at them is almost ear-splitting and the teenage stops in amazement and steps back.

" _Surprise_."

The entirety of the staff is gathered around a table and beneath a strung up banner declaring _welcome back home_. There is a three tier cake on the trestle with candles and blue piping that echoes pretty much the same thing. Every single person is grinning or blowing party whistles and someone has even bought some helium balloons. In short it is possibly the best party Dean has witnessed and – Roman doesn't doubt – the first one thrown for him as well.

"What did I say? They love you, alright uce?"

For a second, Dean says nothing at all, he just sort of stands and _goldfishes_ a little, working an astonished looking jaw up and down.

"Is that – is that – ,"

"The cake you made with mom earlier?" Roman smirks smugly, "Yes, yes it is."

"But she said it was for somebody's weddin'."

"She lied."

Dean beams widely,

"That crafty old broad."

At the sudden winning smile, Roman pushes him forwards and the move releases the rest of the team, who pour across the polished floor towards him to wrap him in pats and hugs and good old love,

"Nice to have you back man,"

"I missed these ugly features."

Dean takes it all in utter bewilderment but there's a punch-drunk and elated sort of look on his face. It makes Roman grin as he crosses to the table and picks up the knife to start carving up the cake. Naturally his mother had insisted on making a creation for Dean's so called _big bash_ and since the whole thing is draped in white frosting, it had been easy to pass off as a traditional wedding cake. Truth appears beside him and starts handing out plates and he chuckles broadly until Roman looks up,

"Little man seems to be lovin' the attention,"

"He does," Roman grins, "Nice idea you had here man."

Truth shakes his head, accepting the first cake slice and then swapping plates,

"Oh no, nuh uh, not mine, for that you'll have to thank our purple-haired goddess."

Roman blinks,

"You mean _Sasha_?"

They both turn to look.

Dean has somehow managed to corner her for a quiet conversation over by the doors. He's bouncing on his heels and is grinning like an idiot with the whole puppy love thing still very much in force. For her part, Sasha is pretending to be bored by it but she's fighting a losing battle because she looks happy enough. Glad that her little admirer is safe and sound again and clearly having missed him a whole lot more than she'll let on.

"You know," Truth comments idly, "If he was ten years older,"

"Or if she wasn't ferocious," Roman responds, but he's smiling because honestly after all the shit they've been through, it's nice to do something normal and _fun_. It's also nice to see Dean happy and not just contented but totally and utterly relaxed. For the first time in over a week he is himself again and fully too, like he was never even hit.

Roman snorts wryly.

 _Hit_ doesn't seem harsh enough. Dean was almost _murdered_ back there. Hearing the noise Truth turns back to look at him and Roman drops his gaze and carries on slicing cake.

"Boss? Y' all right?"

"Yeah," Roman nods, but it isn't convincing, "It's just been a long week."

"The kid owes you his life."

"Come on, no he doesn't."

Truth shakes his head again, making the braids snap back,

"You two are bonded now, brothers _forever_. You were destined to find him that day. Believe that."

As Roman stops cutting – the knife still in his fingers – Truth reaches out a reassuring hand, folding it in around the wrist that is closest and briefly giving Roman a strengthening sort of squeeze. In response to it the big Samoan fights a quick sniff down at the same time shunning the sense of _being a girl_. He isn't really the type to cry about little things but after everything that's happened, the world just feels _right_ again.

Roman smiles a little,

"Thanks for the pep-talk, now I should probably go and save Sasha from Dean."

Truth hands him over two slices of _cakey goodness_ and winks at him teasingly,

"Can't stop young love man."

Around him staff members are starting to drift towards the table, having somehow sensed that _free food_ is served. Roman weaves through them, drinking in the accolades and the smiles on the faces.

Yep, everything is great.

He arrives just as Sasha is ruffling Dean's hair a bit with a grin that not even _she_ can disguise. Once again the kid seems to be working his magic and with the final pin fallen, he's bowled a full score. She heaves a minute little sigh out at Roman as if to say _can you believe this guy_ but when she slides past him she actually chuckles which is the first time he's heard it.

Dean is almost _puppy eyed_.

"Wow uce," Roman snorts back at him grinning, as they stand and watch Sasha blend back into the group, "What the hell you been tellin' her over here? I've been tryin' to get her to smile at me for _months_."

The teenager shrugs, coming out of his trance a bit and then takes the cake that is being offered out. He seems to be virtually _electrified_ by happiness and his cheeks are flushed red which tempers the beat down marks. He takes a big mouthful – leaving crumbs and frosting _everywhere_ – but he's also beaming cheesily which makes the food smear alright.

"It's all about the chat-up lines brother," Dean offers casually, hamming it up, "A woman is like a paintin', you gotta 'preciate her,"

Roman snorts,

"Oh yeah? Where'd you hear that?"

Dean shrugs again, before snorting like an idiot,

"Read it on a beer mat."

Roman chuckles,

"Idiot."

For a moment or two they stand in easy silence, watching as the rest of the party hits full force. Someone has produced a wig and some streamers and there is laughing and yelling which is comfortable and warm. Standing alongside him, Dean shifts just a little and Roman can tell instantly that he's embarrassed and unsure. It comes out of nowhere but before he can fix it, Dean looks up and solves the issue for himself,

"Thanks for – you know – all this and, well, _everythin'_."

Roman smiles softly,

"Like I said, we love you kid."

Dean looks down and nods very mildly, as if he doesn't really get but is starting to believe the fact. Instinctively Roman puts out an arm and pulls him closer and is pleased that the _no touching_ mood seems to have passed. As – evidently – has his sudden teenager awkwardness because when he speaks again, his tone is eager and light,

"Had another idea for the business."

Roman blinks a little in surprise,

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Dean nods, "We could run a competition, like weight liftin' or somethin' so folk can show off. We could make it – like – this whole big event and serve food and have music an' stuff like that. Maybe we could give out a memberships as prizes, get people talkin' about us, y' know?"

His blue eyes are sparkling with capitalist excitement and Roman can't help but buy into it too. Honestly the kid has a greater business acumen than half the damn guys on his father's directors board. Which is why he can't help the snort of laughter that escapes him as he pulls the kid closer,

"Uce, you blow my damn mind."

"Why?" Dean falters, "Don't – don't you like it?"

"Like it? I _love_ it. You're a businessman for sure. Gonna be up in some glass office someday, giving out orders and bossin' guys like me around."

Dean sniffs wryly, but then shakes his head against him making the untidy bangs flutter around. Shifting a little he gazes over at his colleagues and then sighs in contentment,

"Nope, m' happy where I am."

* * *

 **So Dean gets his very own, first ever party. What do you think? Was this chapter too sickly sweet? Eh, he deserves it!**

 **So, for everyone who has been sending well wishes for my mother, sadly it isn't the news we we're hoping for, we're still fighting though, but yeah, bit of a sucky day. Posting this stuff is keeping me sane though as are all your lovely wishes and reviews.**

 **Thank you all xxx**


	20. Twenty

**Thanks for all your lovely comments guys, they mean a whole bunch to me right now and I really mean that. You're all stars!**

 **Guest, Oh well, this is the calm before the storm. The chapters moving on have much more drama. I just wanted to give Dean some of the good life first. Also working on a very dramatic sequel!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Thank you my lovely, traditionally my family are not naturals at being positive (however we do pessimism** _ **real**_ **well) but we're holding onto our hope this time *big hugs***

 **SkittlezLvr79, Dean is totally a little business prodigy, so the gym and he are a natural fit. I liked writing the last chapter, because you're right, he needs to know that lots of people care for him.**

 **Stingerette1975, Well they can't deny that they care about him now, not even Sasha for all her complaining! Figured it was time Dean had a nice little moment to just be a kid for an hour or two.**

 **Mandy, Thank you for your prayers. We're just trying to keep our heads down and plug our way through this thing. Fingers and toes crossed! Glad you liked a happier chapter! It was pretty cute.**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thanks, glad you enjoyed it, we're moving into the final stretch of this thing now, so from here on out we get the drama and some big life changes.**

 **Wwe21, Thank you. Glad you liked Dean's little party, everyone needs cake to cheers themselves up! Dean's has plenty of ideas for the business, good thing Roman is happy to try them all out!**

 **Skovko, Thanks, I might have to take you up on the unloading but I'm hanging in there at the moment. Dean is as bright as a new penny, but you'll have to wait and see how his new idea goes!**

 **Minnie1015, Right, every bit of hoping and praying is gladly received with thanks! You know that with all my Dean-hurting, I also like the sickly sweet brother vibes too. Gotta have a bit of both!**

 **June3law, Thank you for your prayers. Yep, Dean definitely needs a huge reminder that people love him now and again and a party is a good way to do that. Glad you're loving his big idea!**

 **Post party chapter, coming right up!**

* * *

 **Twenty.**

Despite the fact that the thing is _his_ party and he's still recovering from being beaten to a pulp, Dean insists on staying with Roman once everyone is gone and helping clear up. By which he means actually physically helping which he near demands.

He _wants_ to lend a hand.

Which is why midnight finds him with a glittering floor beneath him and a wet but familiar mop in his hands, while Roman bags up the uneaten cake layers – they'll be having it for breakfast – and turns off the lights.

For Dean it seems like a near perfect ending to what has essentially been a near perfect day. Or, at least, as close as he's ever come to one in what has been a pretty sad little life.

A party.

They had thrown him an actual party and he had been given balloons and a cake. It wasn't his birthday and they hadn't been obliged to, but they had all clubbed together and done it anyway. Dean can't remember ever feeling so treasured and the glow of that belonging flows through him and keeps him warm.

In fact he is still grinning broadly like an idiot when Roman ambles over and raises his brows,

"Floor's looking good uce, but I'm pretty sure we should home now, you 'bout ready?"

Dean puts the mop back,

"Always."

As they lock the main doors and step into the evening, Dean is handed over custody of the cake, the two remaining tiers of which he juggles between his elbows, wondering exactly how flour and eggs can weigh so much. As far and flavor and aesthetics go however, the thing is a virtual show-stopping _delight_ and even though he himself had a small hand in making it, he credits Mama Reigns with its being fluffy and light. Digging in a finger, he swipes up some frosting and has it jammed in his mouth when Roman turns around,

"Hey, other people are gonna wanna eat that without your grubby hands all over it."

"You mean _you_?"

"Damn straight," Roman snorts, batting the hand off and stealing some frosting himself. Dean pouts,

"Dude, it's _my_ cake."

"That you made in _my_ kitchen."

"Ha, you wish, that kitchen is your _dad's_."

They are still bantering lightly and laughing at each other by the time they make it over to the car, which is why neither Dean or Roman pay attention to the shadowy figure beneath the flickering street lamp. It sways a little and then stumbles forward, moving closest to the passenger side door, coughing out a few loose bubbles of congestion before barking out a sentence,

" _There_ you are boy."

Before he's even turned around and looked at him, Dean knows instantly who the man is. The gruff tones alone send a shiver right through him and as a chill shuts down his heart, his body goes numb. The cake – being held so carefully against him – slides from his fingers and drops to the floor. Not that he notices since he's paralyzed by terror and every last instinct screams at him to run.

Only he can't.

He's stuck fast to the concrete with his head spinning wildly.

 _Get out, get out._

Behind him, his father takes another step towards him and not knowing how close he is, Dean suddenly spins round, flattening himself against the door of Roman's pickup as his heart almost abruptly bursts back into life. In the time it takes to blink – not that he can _do_ that – the blood is flowing and pumping too fast, sending his body into a breathless sort of _overdrive_ that makes his vision spot and his lungs surge and hurt.

His _father_.

His father is standing in front of him – angry and drunk.

There's murder in his eyes.

"You've caused me a whole world a' trouble y' lil' bastard, mark my words m' gonna tan your hide."

He steps in again and Dean tenses visibly, bracing against the door for the hit that's going to come. At the same time however, a single word rips out of him, instinctive in its need and shot through with alarm,

" _Roman_ – ,"

Later he will realize he doesn't even need to say it, because the man in question is already moving around the car, flashing past the hood and sliding furiously in front of him before grabbing up Dean's father by his stained and torn scruff.

"Get the hell away from him," Roman isn't messing and his tone is as dark as Dean has ever heard, "What the hell do you think you're doing asshole? Comin' to _my_ business and threatening _my kid bro_."

Dean's father clearly hasn't expected the reception and so tries to fight out of Roman's tight grip, flailing his arms in an attempt to knock him off again and battering the Samoan who stands unflinching with each hit.

"Get off me asshole, get the fuck _off_ me, you son of a bitch – kid ain't yours, he's _mine_."

Roman shakes him and Dean watches mesmerized as his father's head rattles and the whites flash up in his eyes.

"You don't touch him," Roman warns, "Not _ever_ ,"

But either through bravado or drink or stupidity, Dean's father decides he doesn't want to take the hint and so simply rears up in Roman's face like an jackass and spits out the most haunting statement Dean's heard in his whole life.

"Kid _deserves_ a god damn beatin', I shoulda done it proper and finished him off the last time."

 _Fuck._

The words hit him pretty much like a gut punch and he audibly gasps as horror floods his face. Roman on the other hand, reacts slightly differently, by tightening his grip until Dean's father starts to wince,

"You should be fucking locked up for what you did to him."

Despite everything, Dean blinks.

Roman hardly ever swears.

His father however merely starts laughing, the noise becoming strangled as Roman cinches in the shirt. Pulling the sides of the collar in together and creating a makeshift, clothing-based noose. Not that it stops the drunk from damn well _cackling_ and the noise is so eerie that Dean shudders a breath loose.

"The cops? They ain't interested in lil' old _me_ now."

Roman growls,

"They're out lookin' for your ass."

"Nope," Dean's father shakes his head almost brightly, "Handed myself in this mornin' like a good boy, complete with an alibi for not bein' at home. Told 'em I heard someone beat my poor kid up – that he'd been stayin' with friends while I was outta town. Said I figured it had to be someone the boy had riled up, caused trouble with, y' know? That kid of mine is a real lil' scallywag. They seemed to believe me, but then 'gain, why wouldn't they? I'm a perfectly upstandin' citizen – good father – they got nothin' to pin it on me, y' see?"

Throughout his monologue, Dean's knees begin trembling in a sudden rush of horror at what he's being told. Naively he assumed that his old man would be arrested and that would be the end of it.

Over and done.

But instead his father has woven some story whereby people believe he's done nothing wrong. The police who photographed and saw _first-hand_ Dean's injuries have been taken in at once by his bastard old man.

 _Oh god._

A ball of nausea rises up in Dean's gullet and he forces it down and clenches up his sticky hands. If his father has been declared innocent of all charges then that does mean –

Does that mean –

"M' not goin' back."

The words fall out of Dean like an avalanche and are barely even audible since they all flow into one. He's shaking like crazy and his vision is spotting because he means it – damn well _means_ it – he is _not_ going back. He doesn't really register he's crying until a tear beads a path right down onto his chin and although he tries to scrub it off quickly, his father sees it and chuckles again,

"Fuckin' cryin' boy? What a damn pussy. Thought I raised you better n' that."

" _Hey_ ," Roman barks and the word is so forceful that it bounces round the lot and makes them all start, "Don't look at him, don't talk to him – you got me? He's not going back. Uce? You're _not_ going back."

As he speaks, Roman curls a warning fist in and pushes it up against the drunken man's cheek. Dean's father grunts, yellow teeth showing widely as he baits the business owner,

"Come on big guy, do your worst, show him that you're no better than I am."

The sentence – as intended – throws Roman for a loop and so he sort of _freezes_ in response to it, which Dean's old man swiftly sees as his chance. Without any warning, he swings a burly fist in and it catches Roman beneath the ribs.

"Oof – ,"

The air rushes out of him and he quickly drops the collar and bends forward with a wince and a hiss of bruised alarm.

" _Roman_ – ,"

Before he even knows what he's doing, Dean is running in towards the men _fast_ , barely even stopping as he reaches the confrontation and butting into his father as he pushes him away hard. Well, at least as hard as he can manage, which as it turns out isn't very much at all, because his father only stumbles drunkenly back a pace before seething in anger,

"Why you lil' _shit_ – ,"

Dean has seen that face before – often – and it makes his body tense up and try to shrink. He's preparing himself for a fist to the midriff but big hands find his shoulders and instead pull him back, pillowing him up against a broad chested middle and protecting him instinctively as Roman growls,

"Step _back_."

It isn't at him, he's shouting at Dean's father and their newly united front makes the drunken man stop. His face is still twisted in pulsating fury but there's a hint of something else there, like he's cautious or unsure. Suddenly he doesn't seem quite so god damn confident although he still manages to sneer,

"We're not finished yet _boy_."

"Step back," Roman snarls, "You stay the hell away from him or I swear to _god_ I'm a' put your damn ass in the ground."

Dean's father chuckles, but thankfully moves back a bit, his terrifying shape being half-swallowed by the night. The street lamp is still managing to light up a bit of him and it gives him a horrific sort of _Two Face_ effect. Roman remains tense, with his hand on Dean's shoulder and one arm wrapped protectively right around his front and he doesn't change his pose until Dean's father fades completely, making a final gun gesture and aiming it straight at Dean's head. The teenager shivers in response and Roman murmurs, keeping his voice low,

"I've got you, it's alright."

But _alright_ is the very last thing that Dean is feeling and as the wind swirls round his feet, he sniffs,

"He's never givin' up."

"Hey – ," Roman soothes, but he doesn't have an answer and so Dean repeats blankly,

"He's never givin' up."

* * *

 **So from this point on, things are going to pick up a whole bunch. Dean's father is back and he's not playing around! Time to get on the phone to the lawyer and make the kid a workable plan.**

 **See you next time!**


	21. Twenty One

**Okay, can I just say a massive apology to those of you whose review replies aren't below? This website has had its third problem in three weeks and it hasn't let me seen a number of my reviews. But when it does I'll be sure to thank you and even though I can't yet physically read them, each and every one means a heck of a lot!**

 **Stingerette1975, Thank you, me and my mother are trying to think positive right now. Yep, you're right, Mama and Papa Reigns go into all-out action mode, but very much in the legal sense at first.**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Dean's dad isn't always going to get things his own way, particularly when it comes to the system, that's what the next few chapters are about, so I hope you enjoy them!**

 **Ladyjade37, Aww, thank you for your prayers *hugs back* With regards the Monday stories, I do have one coming up where Dean is in really big trouble and all on his own which might fit the bill…**

 **LHisawesome4ever, I'm glad you likey! I aim to please! As for how Dean's mood is going to suffer because of his old man? Look no further, but hey, I managed to get some fluff in this one too!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Haha, I'm glad you were able to get that out of your system! Yeah, the cops aren't much help in this, guess you could argue they're probably underpaid and understaffed though?**

 **Raze Olympus, I think there's a queue at people baying for Dean's dad's blood at this point, but yeah, Roman is probably at the front cracking his knuckles and ready to go!**

 **Mandy, Well, although it wasn't good news for my mother, it could have been worse so thank you for your prayers. Glad you liked the last chapter, this one is cuter (Dean's needs that sometimes!)**

 **Minnie1015, Yep, it finally happened and it won't be the last time the three of them cross paths either! I'm glad you can see everything as you're reading, that's what I do when I write it too!**

 **Skovko, Roman and Dean are definitely a united front now, that's for sure. And yep, you know me too well to know that Dean's dad wouldn't just skip off into the sunset, happy for his poor boy!**

 **June3law, Roman maybe** _ **should**_ **have knocked him out, but didn't want to show Dean that violent side and scare him. As for what they're going to do? Brilliant segue, it's time to find out…**

 **FreakinLunaticsYard, Hi *waves* Nothing better than a binge read, right? Glad you're enjoying it and thank you so much for your lovely comments. Yep, so much more to come (and a sequel too)**

 **Here we go then, time to get a plan together...**

* * *

 **Twenty One.**

That night – unsurprisingly – the nightmares return again only this time they seem to have evolved into something worse. Whereas before they were flashes of what _had_ happened, now they have morphed into what _might_ be to come. Roman knows this because of what he hears Dean shouting and what is being screamed most times he runs into the room.

" _No_ , you can't make me – not goin' with you – wanna stay with Roman – ,"

It breaks the big guy's heart.

Roman and his mom take it in shifts between them, going back and forth to calm the kid down. Dean doesn't wake _every_ time he starts yelling, sometimes he just needs a hand on his brow or to have a soothing word whispered close to his ear. Still, the night is long and horribly interrupted and seeing Dean worked up is distressing as hell. Perhaps as a result Roman wakes late the next morning, way beyond his usual time. It isn't intentional – he turns off his alarm clock instead of hitting _snooze_ – but he wakes up more refreshed.

The sun is streaming through the drapes at the windows and casting light around his former teenage room. His old football jerseys are pinned up about him, pressed and carefully installed in white frames. There are pictures from his youth – with friends and on the sports field – along with his diploma and a big empty space. It had once been kept to hang his degree up but now it remains in eternal regret. Well, _parental regret_ since Roman isn't flinching. Quitting college is the best decision he's ever made. If he _hadn't_ stepped away then he would never have got the gym gig and that would mean he'd have never met Dean.

 _Dean_.

As realization suddenly hits him, Roman whips the covers off fast, keen to go and check up on the youngster and see if he's made it through the rest of the night. The air around the bedframe is biting and Roman sucks in a breath as he puts down his toes. What he is _not_ expecting is to tread down on something but that is exactly what Roman does, whipping his feet up again in surprise.

 _Huh_?

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking, Roman casts down at the lump by his bed, staring in bewilderment for several seconds before slowly comprehending.

Dean is curled up on the floor.

"What the hell?"

At some point the kid has padded through into his bedroom, put down his blankets and gone back to sleep. Roman doesn't know precisely _when_ it happened but the fact it has happened at all is a shock. Dean isn't really very good at being needy but at some point during the night his anxiety was won through and while that is instantly kind of _gut-wrenching_ it also hints at something else too.

The fact that he has sought out Roman and the fact he feels safer when Roman is around.

It's why Roman decides to let him sleep longer and not wake him up or make a show of the whole deal. He knows Dean well enough to know he'll be embarrassed and so simply gets ready and joins his parents at the breakfast bar. Despite having been up and down like he has, his mother still looks merrily bright eyed and she greets him with a smile,

"Morning sweetie, have you seen Dean yet?"

Roman snorts,

"Uh, he's in my room."

"Doing what?"

Roman blinks, then scratches his neck a bit, not sure himself,

"Sleepin' on the ground. I woke up this morning and he was kinda curled up there, dead to the world. Didn't wanna get him up."

Crossing the room with a steaming plate of waffles and some beautiful smelling bacon, his mother firmly nods, putting the food down in front of her offspring and wiping hands on her apron,

"Best not, the poor little soul must be exhausted after last night."

Roman's father flaps his paper,

"Yes, aren't we all."

"Well _you're_ not," Roman's mother flings back at him accusingly, clucking her tongue in mild affront, "You didn't even get up once to go and check on him and it certainly didn't hurt your ability to snore. Besides, I don't want to hear you grousing about it. What if poor Dean was to come in and overhear? He's likely already feeling terrible about it and we don't need your big mouth making things worse."

For a very brief moment the two men simply look at her until Roman coughs awkwardly across his growing smile, dipping his head and getting back to his bacon as his father raises a brow,

"Be quiet and eat boy."

Alongside his breakfast Roman tells them for a second time about their encounter with Dean's father the night before and – also for a second time – his mother fusses about his ribcage where the older man punched him, while his father talks assault. The one thing however that they all of them agree on is that no way in hell can they let Dean go back and so forty minutes later when the teen plods in sheepishly, his hair still mussed from sleep, it's the first subject they broach. Well, alright, it's the subject they broach _eventually_ since Roman's mom gets in there first.

"Honey, sit down, you must be hungry, I'll make you some waffles, there's bacon as well."

Dean opens his mouth as if to protest it – and yep, it's obvious he's feeling pretty bad – but Roman simply shakes his head and smiles at him as if to say _forget it, she won't let you turn her down_. The fact that Roman chooses not to mention finding him asleep seems to settle the kid a bit, so although he is giving off huge waves of _awkward_ they fall away from him bit by bit. The steaming plate of breakfast helps him further, as do thick lashings of golden maple syrup. By the time he's polished off a tall glass of apple juice, he's looking more _Dean like_ and so Roman's father makes his move,

"Now then son,"

Dean blinks up at him,

"Yes sir?"

There's definite hesitance painted across his face, because although he likes and respects Roman's father, it's obvious that he's still sort of _scared_ of him at times. Probably because he's a no-nonsense businessman but also because he's a grown man as well. Traditionally father figures haven't been so kind to him yet while the caution is there it isn't outright alarm. Roman's father obviously senses it and softens his tones mildly,

"I think it's time we went through your options."

"Options?" Dean repeats, glancing at Roman, who nods reassuringly,

"About your future in the legal sense."

"I – ," Dean blinks, "I didn't know there _were_ any. I kinda – kinda thought this was it."

Roman's father nods,

"Maybe for the moment, but what we have here is a temporary deal, it's not going to last forever unfortunately and after last night and the police releasing your father, I think we need to come up with an alternative plan."

Just the mere mention of the previous evening's showdown instantly chases Dean's face back to pale and he swallows down a lump of fear and deep loathing which goes about halfway and then gets lodged in his throat. Roman puts a hand out and lightly clips Dean's shoulder, trying to smile brightly,

"Hey, you're not goin' back. I promised you didn't I?"

Dean's expression twitches but it isn't a full smile and it swiftly dies off.

"Absolutely not," Roman's father answers for him, _humphing_ a little at just the thought of the thing, "Which is exactly what our lawyer is telling child services in between filing a complaint with the police. Letting him go – _pa_ – what a pile of horseshit _that_ is and if we have to make a case against the bastard then we will, but that will take time which I'm not so sure we've got now, so I'm going to suggest something else to you, alright?"

Throughout the tirade Dean sits there blinking, trying to pick out the salient features of the rant. At the final posed question he nods back slowly but it's clear he's nervous and so Roman drops down a hand, placing it over Dean's nape and then squeezing, ever so gently just to try and keep him calm.

"Uh huh."

"Legal emancipation of minor."

Dean frowns instantly,

"Legal e- _what_ now?"

Roman fights back a smirk at his reaction and attempts to explain it in more _Dean friendly_ terms.

"If we could get it then it means that in a legal sense, your father wouldn't be in control anymore, not of your money or any medical decisions and you wouldn't have to live with him."

Roman's father nods,

"Or _anyone_. You would essentially be a fully-fledged adult."

Surprisingly Dean's face falls,

"So – you're kickin' me out?"

The big blue eyes shine across like god damn whirlpools and the sudden pain in them makes Roman haul him close, pillowing the head down right across his collarbone and fluffing the bangs until Dean protests at him and moans,

"No you idiot, how often do I gotta tell you? Your ass is _family_ now, you hear that?"

As Dean glances up from beneath his ruffled hairline, he catches Roman's father with a dubious little look. The kid isn't stupid and he knows that in bonding terms he and the older man still have a way to go. Clearly therefore he's not going to believe the _family line_ until the patriarch says so. Which after a brief pause, he does,

"You're a Reigns now, honorary lifetime member."

Dean beams broadly,

"Yeah?"

Roman snorts,

"Yeah."

"So, what do I have to do for this thing then? This legal eman – eman – ,"

"Emancipation."

"Uh huh, _that_."

All eyes instantly turn to Roman's father who seems to have the answers on this _law_ sort of thing and sighing a little, he folds up his paper and drops it down with a thud that makes the cutlery clink,

"There's going to be a whole lot of paperwork,"

Dean nods back,

"Okay, I can do that."

"On top of which I'm going to need those photos."

"What photos?"

"The ones of your injuries that you took."

Dean freezes instantly, still tucked close to Roman and it's bitter for the older man to feel him clam up but eventually the teen manages to nod in reply mildly, shrugging his shoulders just a little,

"Alright."

"Then we leave the rest to our lawyer and hope your father doesn't protest it too much."

"He – ," Dean freezes again, "He can _do_ that?"

"Unfortunately yes, which means we might see him in court, but don't worry son, he's not a patch on my legal team, you mark my words, this is one he won't win."

Roman's father's words seem to jolt belief through him and Dean breathes a sigh out and conjures up a grin, but beneath Roman's arm the kid is still shaking.

He won't believe he's free until everything is done.

* * *

 **Next chapter, Dean takes steps towards his freedom and learns a few more things about himself in the process, also, another wrestling cameo (we all know I love those and this one you'll** _ **never**_ **guess...is that a challenge? Yes, yes it is!)**


	22. Twenty Two

**Okay, so yay, reviews are back, but apparently email notifications aren't so basically with this story it's every two days regardless of what this site is up to!**

 **Sodapop25, Two reviews for the chapter before last and another for the last one as well? Aww, as ever I'm super grateful. Thanks you lovely person you!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Dean's dad maybe handy with his fists but he's not so handy when it comes to legal stuff. That's where the Reigns' come into their own!**

 **Minnie1015, I have this real fetish for protective characters watching over their sleeping friends, don't know if that's weird or not (probably) but totally using it here!**

 **AngelsDestiny22, This story is basically one long homage to protective Roman looking after Dean and I'm not sorry about it! Oh yeah, Dean's dad is a piece of work!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, You know what? Cesaro is a great guess but...um...no, this chapter's wrestling cameo is way more obscure than that! Hopefully he fits though!**

 **June3law, Both good guesses but it isn't either of those. Hopefully the cameo I've picked makes sense though when you've read the chapter, I felt like he fitted in!**

 **Skovko, Also sounds like when I used a long word at work and people ask me if I made it up (um, no). I've been on this site since I was 16 and there are so many bugs recently, grrr!**

 **Mandy, But the more Dean goes through, the more we love him though, right? It makes him more squishable and cute! Thanks for your prayers, yep, trying to stay positive!**

 **HannonsPen, Hey! Glad you made it over here but totally** _ **not**_ **glad you're feeling icky. Hopefully you're a little bit better today though? Junk food always helps, that's my tip!**

 **Rebel8954, Mama Reigns with the wooden spoon would be a great addition to Cluedo! But yeah, Roman doesn't want to use violence like Dean's old man would.**

 **More** _ **legal e-what**_ **now coming right up!**

* * *

 **Twenty Two.**

Roman's father isn't kidding when he says there's lots of paperwork. There's paperwork on paperwork and then some more on top of _that_. So much in fact, that initially Dean baulks at it, but luckily the Reigns family attorney is on hand.

His name is Titus and he's built like a mountain or a _range_ of mountains like the Himalayas or the Alps. He's perpetually dressed like he's on his way to the country club and is almost always serious but Dean likes him in spite of that. Mostly because the guy is trying to help him but also because he seems to _know_ so damn much. Any question Dean has about the law or the process, he answers in a heartbeat and he also gives out advice. Firstly, Dean needs to fill the forms out personally, to let the courts know that he understands them all. Secondly, he needs to read up about emancipation laws and so Dean looks up them up on Roman's computer and does. They're not exactly _thrilling_ but since it's important Dean takes the whole thing seriously enough, printing them out and then borrowing a highlighter, to pick out the parts to which he might want to come back.

The next step once he's filled out each section of the forms carefully – which in total takes Dean just over a week – is to date and sign it which feels like a _huge_ deal and evidently is since Roman's mother bakes him a cake. It isn't three tiered or anything monumental – just a pumpkin loaf – but it underlines the fact. Dean is taking charge of his own life _finally_ and the assorted Reigns relatives are super proud of that.

The fourth part of the process is pretty darn easy, since he needs someone to fill out the affidavit form. Someone who can vouch for every part of his statement and who will sit with him in court.

Roman is simply his only choice.

Papa Reigns offers and Titus even backs him, suggesting the company name might add clout, but they all of them know that Dean will want Roman, on top of which it seems a good way to pay the man back. After all, Roman has done _so_ damn much already and Dean has little he can give in return. Having him as his legal wingman however feels deep and important –

"Will you do it?"

"Sure uce."

After that, things get a little more complex because they need to try and get parental consent. They need to see if Dean's father would be willing or maybe even _happy_ to sign his kid away. Dean knows he won't be – he won't give control willingly – but Titus' legal office sends off the papers anyway, receiving them back barely three full days later, hand-delivered and shredded into pieces like snow. Evidently he is also rude to Titus' receptionist and appears to be drunk which doesn't shock Dean all that much. Still, though the fact is that his father is now _aware_ of it. He knows what Dean is doing and he doesn't like it one bit. Dean even worries that the man might track him down again and come bursting in one day to target him at the house, which he puts to Roman one night after dinner, when they're lounging on the bed playing video games. He tries to sound casual but pretty much blows it with the flickering note of worry in his voice and Roman pauses the gameplay completely and turns to gaze across at him,

"He isn't stupid man, if he comes here, he'll be arrested for trespass _and_ I'll put a boot up his ass."

"So you don't think he will?"

"I don't think he'd risk it, but if he _does_ I've got your back uce. Trust me on that, I always will."

It hadn't really particularly settled him and he'd slept on Roman's floor for a few nights after that. Not that anybody mentions it at any point – not wanting to embarrass him for the most part Dean assumes – although at some point Roman's mother drags in a blow-up mattress, clearly not wanting him asleep on the ground.

The fifth part of the procedure seems slightly more fiddly in that the courts seem to want written evidence as well, physical proof that Dean will be able to support himself if his application gets all the way through. _Ideally_ – Titus tells them – this would include his attendance and anything else related to school, but since Dean doesn't go there anymore they have to change it and instead they submit Dean's gym-based work. Kiddies' Boxing Night and the flyers Dean designed for it go in amongst the paperwork, as do the business facts. Across the prevailing weeks Dean's idea seems to have flourished and although – thanks to almost being beaten into the mortuary – he hasn't been back to see it, the figures prove it's doing well. Best of all however is the fact it's making _money_ which Roman is thrilled with and Titus sees as a solid tack.

"Proves you can stand on your own two feet in the real world."

Dean nods but isn't too sure about that.

It is during this stage also that his birth certificate shows up which is a total surprise to the teenager in question who has never even _seen_ the damn thing before and isn't even sure he actually had one. It is honestly something he's never thought about before. They are sitting around the table one night after dinner with Titus fresh from the office and looking sharp in a navy suit. He produces the paper as Dean is midway through inhaling what is – as always – a heavenly dessert and it stops him in his tracks for a moment, amazed by it and for several reasons more than the obvious one.

"Dean _Jonathan_ Ambrose?"

Mama Reigns frowns,

"What's wrong sweetie?"

"I – ," Dean shrugs, "I never knew that before."

"What?" Roman answers, brows drawn in like his mother's, "That you had a middle name?"

"Yeah, figured I was just _Dean_."

After that he goes back through all of the papers and carefully changes his name on each one, spelling the letters out slowly and carefully and feeling proud of his identity.

A fucking _middle name_ , who knew?

Another revelation is getting his own bank account which is a wordy but grown up process which happens soon after that. Evidently another thing the courts are pretty keen on are seeing that an applicant has finances for themselves, or at the very least, somewhere to put them when they get them and so Papa Reigns takes him and gets him hooked up. The damn thing even comes with his very own _bank card_ which is a far cry from stuffing loose twenties beneath his bed and hoping against hope that his old man wouldn't find out. Dean is an _earner_ now with credit scores and everything and more than any other part, that makes him madly, wildly proud.

The final step is making extra copies of everything, including ones to be put aside for Dean's mom and dad. Titus maintains it's an important part of the process although Roman would far rather they stick it up the guy's ass. Dean grins at that and Titus frowns at both of them but his eyes sparkle too.

He's not serious _all_ the time.

The _big_ thing however – and the super grand finale to the application process – is the physical act of filing the forms, which means a trip down to the county clerk's office two weeks to the day after the whole process kicks off and also makes the legal side firm and irreversible which strikes Dean with both excitement and outright alarm.

It's a pretty big deal and so Roman goes with him, as does Titus for legal support. Mama and Papa Reigns gives him hugs before he leaves them – well, a bear-hug from her and a light pat from him – but they both assure the kid they'll be thinking about him and Dean nods and sucks a breath in.

"Let's go do this thing."

Even so saying it and actually doing it turn out to be two very different things, which is why, when they pull up in front of the building, Dean sort of freezes and can't move his feet.

"Hey uce?" Roman shifts around the car towards him frowning, stalling alongside, "Feeling alright?"

Dean wets his lips,

"I – this is it Roman."

The bigger man nods,

"You're damn right it is, you do this and you're one _big_ step closer to being free from him."

Dean smiles,

"Easy breezy, right?"

Roman's hand comes down on his shoulder and jiggles him a bit before adding in a squeeze.

"Easy breezy, you got it, you ready?"

Dean nods back at him and sucks a breath in,

"I'm ready uce."

It's the first time that the teenager has chosen to use the moniker although he's been toying with the idea for a couple of weeks. At first it had felt like a Samoan sort of _Reigns word_ and he hadn't wanted to borrow it but now it feels right. Besides which _bro_ just no longer seems fitting considering the Reigns clan have taken him right into their house. They tell him he's family every day and so gradually he's been starting to believe that just maybe he is. Still, the word is offered out uncertainly, not that he needs to worry since Roman's face sort of quirks and then lights up as he chuckles back broadly and cards his hand through the messy mop of hair,

"You pronounce it real good, _real_ good, y' hear me?"

As Titus buttons up a smart two-breasted pinstripe and moves in beside them, they step together towards the door, Dean clutching tightly to his precious application which is being kept safe in a leather bound folder with the gold embossed logo of the _Reigns Corporation_ on.

Inside the courthouse it is busy but steady, with people either hanging or striding around. It's instantly easy to see who is a lawyer and who is some poor mook just waiting for their turn. Titus even nods at a couple of _legal eagle_ types, who nod back in turn in what amounts to a business hug. In a few weeks – or months, Dean doesn't know the timeline – that might be him awaiting his own turn in court and the thought makes his stomach climb up a bit then roll on him in what he hopes is raw excitement but is more than likely fear. He looks around and spies another lone teenager and very briefly wonders if he's doing the same as him. Wonders if the kid _also_ has a lousy parent that he is trying to get rid of to give himself a better chance. The question is answered when a woman bursts abruptly out of a court room just along the hall, shrugging off guards and shouting.

"This is _crazy_ , come on Sam, let's get outta here."

Evidently the woman doing the yelling is his mother and he's waiting out what is probably one of her many appearances in court. He sees Dean looking and makes an angry face at him and the silent comparisons Dean had drawn up between them shrivel and die as he drops his head down.

Nope, just him on the old emancipation train.

Roman's grip tightens just a little.

"This way uce."

Following Titus – who seems to know where he is going – leads them to the clerk's office up on the second floor, where Dean gets to _finally_ hand over his paperwork to a man at a desk who looks kindly but firm.

"Thank you, we will have the requisite papers served to your father tomorrow afternoon."

Dean gulps,

"That soon?"

The man smiles back at him,

"Well the court date is set for two weeks from tomorrow, so he needs a chance to respond."

The answer again hits Dean like a jackhammer and he exhales a little like he can't breathe.

" _Two weeks_?"

Roman's grip increases instantaneously on his shoulders in a chivvying squeeze,

"Then you'll be done."

Titus too seems happy with the arrangements and so evidently a terrifying _two weeks_ it is and although it's good in terms of sitting around waiting, for whatever damn reason Dean had expected it to take _months_. With everything he's been sort of mentally preparing for, he's not prepared for speediness and leaves the courthouse in a funk, which lasts until he walks through the door of Roman's parent's house and is met by the whole family –

Sisters, kids and _everyone_.

Seeing his confusion, Roman's mother moves in rapidly and pulls him into a sweet but firm hug, smoothing back his hair as she whispers against him, seeing his confusion.

"We thought a family meal might help."

Dean's first response is a blink of bewilderment as he turns the sentiments over in his head. Family meal. A meal with _his_ family. Eventually he smiles back at her,

"Uh thanks, that sounds good."

* * *

 **Did anyone guess Titus? I'm guessing probably not, but I figured that he's an intelligent feller he would play the lawyer role pretty well!**

 **Next chapter, Dean gets sent a present from his old man...**


	23. Twenty Three

**Sorry to anyone that didnt get the alert for the last chapter, what can I say? More website glitches I'm afraid. Rest assured I'm still posting every two days though! Now, did anyone order a side of teenage hormones with a whole lot of drama? Your order is up!**

 **Stingerette1975, Yep, freedom is his for the taking, almost, only his dad isn't going to let that happen! Ooh, go you for guessing Titus, I was convinced he was a curveball!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, You might say that his freedom is only a few chapters away, or maybe not...maybe I'll be really mean and send him back again. You think I won't?!**

 **Raze Olympus, Haha, so my journey through the entire roster of WWE superstar continues with good old, sharply dressed Titus! Glad you're happy he's here!**

 **Mandy, Dean is so adorable in this story that I want to reach in and squeeze his cheeks like he's a little baby bunny and make cooing noises. I'm sure the real Dean wouldn't be so impressed!**

 **Sodapop25, Hey you! Glad you're still on board the crazy train with the rest of us! This story is about to pull into the station but we've still got a wild ride coming up!**

 **Minnie1015, Thanks, for a while I was going to try and half ass it, but I'm simply not that kind of girl, so I went and did my research until I understood it, thankfully it wasn't too hard!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, So you know about you saying that you're a dark person for guessing what the gift would be? Turns out we might share that (or else, great minds think alike!)**

 **Skovko, I figured that college educated, dashing Titus would be wasted as a bungling crook, also, who the hell else could have pulled off being a lawyer? (Definitely not Bo!)**

 **June3law, Yep, the papers are in so there's no going back, but Dean has his new family to smooth things over now! Dean's dad isn't very happy about it though, as his present shows…**

 **Warning shot being fired over the bows in 3, 2, 1...**

* * *

 **Twenty Three.**

The next day the papers are served to Dean's father and although he doesn't know exactly when it's going to happen the thought that it _will_ is enough to freak him out. In fact, he is pretty much a ball of anxiety from the second they leave the damn county court, unable to switch off when he's swept to a restaurant for the family meal.

He doesn't eat.

He feels sick.

The thought of the night is definitely the worst thing because he knows the nightmares will come on strong, which is why he is surprised when he pads out of the bathroom, ready to turn the lights off to find Roman in his room. The older man is wordlessly blowing up a single mattress, while his mother places a bed sheet over the top. Nobody speaks but the inference is obvious and it strikes Dean in two ways.

With embarrassment and a sense of calm.

Over the previous weeks whenever he's having trouble and the night terrors are clamouring and clawing their way in, he has taken to sneaking himself into Roman's bedroom and lying on the floor where he can hear the other man. Roman doesn't snore – well, not really – but he breathes pretty deeply and the sound helps Dean relax. He isn't sure at what point precisely he starts to need it – or not _it_ so much as _him_ since Roman is his safe place – but as much as he tries to act like a grown up and shrug off his fears they won't go away and in those dark moments he needs the reassurance but it is never mentioned between them.

Ever.

Not once.

Yet there they are now setting a bed up for the big man and giving Dean what he needs without him having to ask. Dean slides in beneath his own covers smiling and Mama Reigns comes across and kisses his head,

"Sleep tight sweetie."

Roman settles down beside him and doesn't say a word.

Dean sleeps pretty well.

Even so he's all jitters the next morning, which is why Roman suggests going down to the gym, easing himself slowly back into his work again and giving him something to take his mind off the fear. Dean jumps on the suggestion in a second and so after a hearty breakfast, they both head off. Truth is there already but the rest of the place is empty and as they step through the doors, Dean feels like he's home.

"Hey, there he is," Truth grins, "The main man."

He comes across the floor with a hand held up to Roman, but as the boss goes to high five him Truth chuckles and sweeps past, heading for Dean who slaps his palm against him as Roman tries hard to look offended,

"Not cool man."

"Oh, sorry boss, I guess I didn't see ya,"

Dean stifles his laughter as Roman snorts,

"Yeah, sure."

But Truth being _Truth_ is just the medicine that is needed and within seconds Dean is feeling kind of easier again. That then lifts further about fifty minutes later when the purple haired goodness that is Sasha wanders in and Dean can't help feeling a flicker of excitement when she actually smiles as she lays eyes on him.

"Hey there cutie, it's good to have you back again, you here every day now?"

 _Cutie?_

Dean almost yells out loud.

"Uh, no not yet, but I'm workin' on gettin' back here, soon as all the _court stuff_ is over with."

Sasha nods, her expression falling slightly,

"Oh yeah, I think I heard about that. You're trying to get emancipation, that's right huh?"

Dean puffs out his chest,

"I'll be an adult then – y' know – which means I'll probably have my own place, like, a bachelor pad or party house or whatever. You could – uh – maybe come over sometime?"

Sasha grins back and then shares a look with Roman who is putting out the crash mats in preparation for the day. There's a smirk on her lips and something sort of naughty and she saunters in close so that she's grazing Dean's cheek and lifts a manicured finger to his forehead to twirl a tiny little piece of his hair.

"Maybe I will."

A shudder ripples through him and tugs at the member beneath the waistband of his pants. Quickly he throws his hands across the _rising_ and blushes beetroot red,

"Uh – y-yeah, okay _cool._ "

Giving the strand of his hair one last fondle, she turns with a wink and then lightly saunters off which Dean watches caught in a torrent of hot emotion which he can barely control as Roman walks up.

"Havin' a little trouble there uce?"

He's grinning like an idiot – like an idiot _big brother_ – and it makes Dean flush harder as he hobbles away, heading for the door with no small amount of trouble with his hands across his groin.

"I hate you sometimes."

"I'd use the disabled bathroom if I were you man," Roman shouts after him, entirely too loud, "More room to get it done the whole way through, if you get me."

Dean extends a middle finger back.

"Ass."

By the time Dean has finished his _vital ministrations_ thankfully the joke seems to have largely worn off and so the teenager gets back to sitting in the boxing ring, with a pen and assorted colors designing flyers for the weight lifting idea. It's quiet in the boxing room since no one's sparring early and it means he can lose himself and truly relax and it's why he starts when Sasha walks in briskly, holding up a small brown paper wrapped box.

"Hey, stud, this was left outside the front door a minute back, has your name on it."

Dean frowns and looks up,

"My name?"

Sasha shrugs down at it,

" _Deano_. I ain't no genius but I mean, I figure that's gotta be you, right?"

She's grinning but the expression falls sharply away again when she registers the sudden look of terror on his face. Dean's whole body has seized up fully and the pen falls from his fingers and rolls noisily away. There is only one person in the word who calls him _Deano_ and it is definitely _not_ an affectionate term. The last time he had heard it, he had been tied up in the kitchen while his father had booted him,

" _Come on Deano, get up_."

Breath rushes into his lungs and then stays there as he suddenly and abruptly forgets how to breathe and Sasha puts the box on the apron of the boxing ring and her brown eyes widen,

"Holy shit, is it from him?"

Dean nods back, or at any rate he tries to but the movement is jerky like he's having a heart attack and instead of breathing out, yet more air flows _into_ him until he feels like he may just pass out from it all. His eyes are glued to the package before him which could contain anything –

Dean scoots himself back.

"Hang on, okay?" Sasha issues back worriedly but also no-nonsense, "I'll get Roman, alright?"

She bustles away but Dean barely even notices since the entirety of his world is buzzy and shrill. His vision has narrowed to a pinprick of clarity which centres on the letters which have been _carved_ instead of scrawled.

 _Deano_.

At once it is taunting and mocking and Dean's body prickles with flashbacks and alarm.

"Uce?"

The sound of Roman is almost like music and he snaps his head up as the big man marches in, Sasha still trotting uncertainly behind him but keeping her distance as her boss hits the ring. Climbing between the ropes Roman bypasses the packaging and drops down beside Dean, fingers splayed across his arm,

"Roman he's – ,"

"Hey, it's okay, it can't hurt you."

Dean shakes his head,

"But you don't know what's inside."

"Then how about we open it together?"

It sounds reasonable enough and so Dean nods a little,

"A-alright."

"I mean, after all," Roman continues with faux brightness, pulling the frightening little parcel across, "Might just be the parental waiver we asked for, maybe he's realized this is something he can't win."

As he speaks he passes the package across to him and Dean takes it, hands trembling as he licks his dry lips. Honestly he doesn't believe that bullshit for a minute and he strongly doubts that Roman does too but in the moment it's nonetheless comforting to hear it and since it's _technically_ possible, Dean peels the paper off. Beneath it is a cardboard container which feels damp and has dark splotches splashed across the side. For a second or two Dean sits and stares at them, then reaches out and begins to prize off the top. As he does however, Roman clues into it and leans in to stop him,

"Uce, wait – ,"

It's too late.

Sitting inside the box – tossed into it lazily – is a dead, disemboweled and very, very bloody rat. _That's_ what has been seeping through the sides of the cardboard, the damn thing's internal fluids.

Dean drops it with a gasp.

The box, the rat and a blood-stained piece of paper clatter to the ring and splatter red flecks around. Sasha barks in a shrill squeak of horror and skitters back a pace although she isn't even close and Roman too flinches and steps away from the carnage before gripping Dean's shoulder,

"Hey uce, hey – ,"

Dean for his part simply stares at the carcass which is pathetically half-in, half-out of the box. Not that he has a great affinity for rodents but it's impossible to think the damage _wasn't_ done by his old man. Impossible to believe that he just came across it and put it in a box to terrify his son. No, the implication is that _he's_ done the surgery and gouged the bowls out as a statement of his wild side.

"R-Roman, he – ,"

"Sssh, he's just trying to scare you, but we won't let him win, alright? Don't let him win."

He pulls Dean's head forward to pillow against his collarbone and the teenager goes with it but he can't draw up his eyes. Every inch of his gaze is still on the animal and the torture it must have gone through. In a weird way he can sympathize. After all, his father sees _him_ as mere vermin and that's probably the message he is trying to put across. But there's another message too, scribbled out on the paper which Dean's spies suddenly and it makes his blood run cold,

"Roman, look – ,"

Dean stretches out a finger and Roman reads the bloody page before hissing a word,

"Shit."

There in a furious hand is a message and it's intended for Dean without question.

 _Give up._

* * *

 **Ooooh, things are getting real now!**

 **Next chapter, the trial part one!**


	24. Twenty Four

**So, if I can start on a syrupy note, probably because of everything going on at the moment, I had a real crisis of confidence this week about whether my writing was good enough and whether I am losing my touch, but then I read over some of the lovely reviews you've given me and pulled myself together again, so when I say the reviews mean a lot to me, I absolutely mean every word of it.**

 **Thank you all.**

 **Stingerette1975, Well, I won't keep you in suspense any longer (well, I will because this is a two parter, but you know what I mean) because here comes the battle for Dean's emancipation!**

 **Minnie1015, I love the idea of Roman and his mother making sure someone is there for Dean all the time, even when he's sleeping. Plus Roman is never too far from his cape!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Nope, they are certainly not giving up and over the next two chapters especially that is going to become pretty apparent (or at least, I really hope it will!)**

 **Skovko, I know, I know, but I love rats too, so therefore that means I can write cruel things right? As for Otunga, I think he was going through some** _ **issues**_ **when I wrote this, so Titus seemed a safer bet!**

 **Mandy, Hey girl, hope you're okay and have recovered from being all unwell? I also hope you're getting a bit of winter sunshine where you are. Thanks for your reviews (all of them!)**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Oops, I didn't mean to make your stomach hate you again. As Truth would say, my bad?! Dean's father is a nasty piece of work and you'll get more of that here and of course lots of drama going forward (you know me too well!)**

 **Right then, time to hit the courtroom!**

* * *

 **Twenty Four.**

It's kind of crazy really – how fast the two weeks go, for all that Dean wishes they would slow the fuck down. There's a weird sort of vibe in the air all around him and it worsens the closer they get to the show. That's what he's calling it by the way.

The show.

Short for _shit show_ which it definitely will be once his damn father gets up in front of the judge.

Mostly Dean just tries to forget it but that turns out to be easier said than done because despite having put in all the bastard paperwork there are still about a million things to get straight. Titus comes by to practise being in the witness stand and giving his statement without freaking out, Roman's father tries to gather last minute bits of evidence and Roman's mother insists on buying him a suit.

An actual suit.

He's never had one of those before and although he feels pretty damn mature in it, he can't deny it's scratchy and makes him stand up too straight.

The only time he really does any real relaxing is when he's busy at work in the gym, the hours of which he fills by helping set up his whole genius weight lifting competition by mail-shotting flyers or helping Truth source a band. For those few hours he can totally immerse himself but the spectre of his court date is never too far off.

The other thing that helps is sticking close to Roman which fortunately the Big Dog doesn't really seem to mind. Nor does he mind the new nickname of _Big Dog_ which Truth coins for him while messing around. Still, it seems to fit – like – scarily well with him and especially since Dean tends to trot around after him like a jittery terrier on the balls of his feet.

A lot of the time Dean feels he should be braver and suck it up and shows some balls, but then other times he wakes up yelling from a nightmare and it's all he can do to stop from running into his arms. What helps is having the blow up mattress constantly stationed in one corner of his room and as the court date draws closer and the terrors step up a pace, Roman takes to sleeping on the squeaky cushion the whole night through.

It works though – just – it really does work.

So much so in fact that on the morning of the _shit show_ Dean actually oversleeps a little bit and wakes up to Mama Reigns sweeping his hair back and whispering to him,

"Honey? It's time to get up."

The realization hits him like a thunderbolt and it's as much as he can manage not to sit up and hurl. He doesn't eat breakfast or really even talk much, he just slips into his suit then hangs around to go. Roman sticks with him – also staying silent – and Dean is grateful again for the fact he just _knows_. Always knows when Dean wants to be talking and when he needs to be silent and calm. Not that the latter happens that often but when it does it's Roman who's there leading the charge.

"Easy uce, couple of hours then it's over."

Dean just hopes they come up with the desired result.

Despite the fact that the entire Reigns family and the whole gym locker room want to be there for support, Roman's father firmly lays the law down and restricts it to the four of them with Titus there as counsel and for any complex legal stuff.

That helps too –

Not so many eyes on him although as they step into the courtroom, that all goes to hell.

There aren't many people beyond a few assorted strangers – who are either waiting for their turn on the podium or else are on a _really_ weird day out – along with the requisite courthouse officials and a green-clad security guard standing keeping watch.

They don't worry him.

What worries him is his father who is dressed and clean shaven and has damn well got there _first_. He's sitting at the table across from their own one, with papers fanned out in front of him in stacks.

Papers? What the hell kind of evidence can _he_ have?

Probably all lies but what if people believe him and see him as a dissolute but ultimately good man? What if Dean is sent back right away to live with him?

 _What if –_

 _What if –_

 _What if –_

"Uce? Calm down."

Dean doesn't really clue into his fast breathing until Roman's words rumble in through his head and his face pillows up against the weave of the jacket as the bigger man pulls him into his chest. At that point he registers the way his lungs are _squeaking_ and the fact that his vision has been going spotty for a while. Seemingly seeing his asshole of a father sitting and smirking has triggered an attack and Dean is right on the edge of going crazy and letting the whole damn thing fall apart.

"Roman? I can't – I can't – ,"

"Hey, easy, we're all right here with you, he ain't gettin' near you, okay?"

It takes a minute or two for him to breathe right but he manages to cool down as Roman's father moves across, blocking out his own fucking _smirking_ parental unit with a paternal sort of smile and his considerable girth.

"Nothing to see here son," Papa Reigns nods, "Nothing to worry about anyhow."

Dean nods back and shudders a breath in and after a hug from Mama Reigns he and Roman take their seat, at the table just a damn stone's throw from his father but with Roman very purposefully taking the aisle seat.

The judge sweeps in not two minutes later and they all rise as Titus has warned Dean they will do. Titus has also prepped him on the woman who will do the presiding and it's apparently good news. Judge Trish Stratus is stern – so he's been forewarned – but ultimately fair and pretty damn sharp. She certainly starts by making eyes at Dean's father and drinking him in but her conclusion remains unknown and so Dean can only hope that she thinks he's a loser and his own role will be minimal before she lets him go home.

 _Reigns_ home that is, definitely not his old one.

Unless –

Unless that's precisely what she does?

"Dean?"

He jumps as Roman sort of nudges him and straightens in his seat with wild alarm,

"Uh, _what_?"

Evidently he's missed the opening summary or whatever the hell happens and it shows in his blush. Fortunately Judge Stratus simply nods at him and then motions to the stand as Roman whispers,

"It's your turn."

"Now?" Dean hisses and Roman prods a second time, seeming a little more urgent with it,

" _Go_."

Crossing the floor means passing his father who is still god damn smirking like the asshole he is. Clearly he thinks he has the thing all sewn up and his swirling self-confidence dents Dean's just a bit. After all, they can't _both_ be the winner and what if Dean ends up squarely on the losing side?

No, just _no_.

He _isn't_ going to lose this and he glances back at Roman who nods at him and smiles.

Climbing the stand is a pretty bizarre process and he goes through the motions like he's stumbling through a dream but once he is up there and settled it all seems real again and his thumping heart picks up and pounds in his ears.

"So now Dean," Judge Stratus starts simply before smiling a little, "May I call you Dean?"

"Sure – uh – I mean, _yes ma'am_."

Titus has coached him very carefully on his language and so he makes sure to use it as far as he can.

"You wish to become emancipated from your father, is that correct?"

He nods again,

"Yes ma'am."

"Can you tell the court exactly why that is please?"

"But I wrote it on my statement – ,"

"I'd like to hear it again."

Her tone is no nonsense but it isn't unfriendly and it's obvious she can see the raw panic in his eyes. Still, if it has to be done then so be it and so Dean draws a breath in, swallows and tries,

"He – he beats me, all the time, constantly and the last time he – he left me for dead."

There's a ripple through the courtroom which Dean can't quite fathom but it's a mix between shock and anger all at once. Shock from the randoms who are drinking the show in and anger from his own gang who react at hearing it again.

"I believe that required a stay in the hospital?"

Dean clears his throat,

"I was unconscious for more n' a day."

Judge Stratus looks down at the paperwork and purses her lips a little,

"Yet your father wasn't there because _he_ says the night it happened, he was staying with a friend."

Dean snorts bitterly then remembers that he shouldn't because Titus has made it abundantly clear that he needs to answer while being cool and calm. The courts are looking to see his maturity and yelling and snorting won't do that at all. But at the same time it's hard – _so_ hard – to hear the bullshit and so the noise just slips out before he quickly clears his throat.

"Oh he was there," Dean forces out eventually, choking on the words and barely daring to look up, "He found out that I was workin' for Roman and thought I was keepin' money from him, which I was. But only 'cos it was _my_ money in the first place and I knew he would just go out and spend it on booze or drugs – ,"

He doesn't even really figure out what he's saying until the words start to tumble out of his mouth, but at the _booze and drugs_ line his father barks harshly and it echoes and makes the teenager jump,

"The boy's tellin' lies – ,"

" _Mr Ambrose_ – ," Judge Stratus snaps at him as Dean slams back against his seat in raw alarm, "You will get your turn in a minute but for now it's your son who is up on this stand."

Dean's father grumbles a little and curls his lip up and the sight of it makes Dean's heart flip on itself. Frantically his eyes find out Roman at their table and the big man nods and gives him a look of _doing fine._ It's probably a bald faced lie but it steadies him and Dean looks up again,

"You – uh – want me to carry on?"

"If you would like to."

Dean nods,

"I – I just want to get this whole thing _done_. Y' know? I mean, tell you all about the horrible shi – um, _stuff_ – he used to do to me so I don't have to go back and go through it all again."

"What sort of _stuff_?"

"Beatin', name-callin', stealin' my money, sellin' anythin' and everythin' I ever owned, never havin' any food anywhere or nothin', not payin' the bills so the house was always cold. An' a lot of the time there wasn't hot water or – like – _light_ sometimes an' that was _my_ fault."

"Why?"

Dean's head is lowered but he can still see his father, who is sitting dead ahead of him looking antsy as hell. He's about two seconds from losing his temper and despite the fact that he is in a damn courtroom and there's a security guard in front of him he will never _not_ be scared.

"He – he blamed me for my mother leavin', said it was because I was – can I cuss here?"

"Go ahead."

Dean takes a breath watching his father tremble with a look on his face that says _don't you dare kid._ Dean dares though although it takes a lot of effort and a long deep breath to fight the fear back.

"He said I was a _fuckin' disappointment_ and a _waste of space_ , said I drove her outta there."

From out of the corner of his _other_ eye is Roman, who is leant across the table and shaking his head. His anger however is not directed Dean's way. He's angry _for_ him which is a whole other thing. Judge Stratus stares across unflinchingly but there's something akin to understanding in her eyes. Dean isn't sure she actively believes him but she isn't condemning him which is actually quite nice.

"That must have been hard to hear."

Dean licks his lips and shrugs,

"He's done worse."

"Like when you say he left you unconscious?"

Dean drops his head again, ducking it down against his breastbone because suddenly there's a raft of tears in his eyes and he is bitterly _bitterly_ ashamed of them being there since they prove to his father that his actions have left deep scars.

"He – ," Dean whispers and Judge Stratus leans closer, utterly intrigued, "He tied me up."

Somewhere in the background, Roman's mother whimpers and he hears Papa Reigns murmur at her to keep her calm.

" _Nonsense_ ," Dean's father yells across the room at them and again his fury makes Dean shrink back, "The kid is sayin' _anything_ he thinks is gonna help him, you don't seriously believe this?"

Judge Stratus bangs her gavel down,

"Mr Ambrose, I have warned you already and I don't want to have to tell you again."

The older man snorts and Dean wants to ignore it but he can't because that's all he's ever done. Almost his whole life he's been tiptoeing around him and trying so hard not to anger his dad but now he's somewhere where his old man can't hurt him and so he looks up fiercely and starts yelling back. It isn't intentional – Titus will hate it – but it's fifteen years of hurt that he's putting into words.

"I hate you, I hate everythin' about you, all you've ever done is beat me down. Why? What the hell could I have done that's so horrible? You left me to die on the damn kitchen floor. You tied me up so I couldn't get out of there and only let me go when you knew I couldn't walk. You never loved me _ever_ and now I got people that care for me, you want to come in and ruin that as well – ,"

"Dean – ," Judge Stratus tries to interrupt him and somewhere in the background he hears Roman too, but that it's now, the floodgates have opened and won't be closed no matter how hard he tries.

"You're not my father, I don't _want_ you as a father and you sure as hell don't want me as your son."

" _Alright, that's enough_ ," Judge Stratus bellows and Dean slumps down because she's angry at _him_ , "Fifteen minute recess and when we reconvene there'll be no disorder anymore, do you hear?"

Dean hangs his head – the tears stinging sharp again – almost _feeling_ it as his old man grins. It's everything he wanted. To see the kid lose his temper and Dean has gone and done it.

The bastard has won.

* * *

 **Would I be that cruel? Answers on a postcard…**


	25. Twenty Five

**When I first had the idea for this story, this chapter was literally the whole idea I had, I just saw this scene in my head and knew I had to craft a story around it, not sure why you needed to know that but...well, there you go! #randomtrivia**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, I am so pleased I put Trish in there, I could just see her as a kick ass judge! She plays a role in this chapter too, so hopefully she'll give you the outcome you want!**

 **Stingerette1975, Okay, maybe I'm not totally mean after all, but don't think that means I'm going to be taking it easy on poor old Dean! At least I let him unload a bit though!**

 **Keyverley Ray, Hi *waves* It felt good for Dean to shout at his dad in the moment, but he regrets it in this chapter too (you'll see why). He's definitely winning Papa Reigns round though!**

 **Minnie1015, Dean can practically taste his emancipation at this point! And thank you for the pep talk and all your lovely reviews and messages on** _ **all**_ **of my crazy stories and series!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, It would be a good plot twist if I sent him back. Who says I don't? Either way, there's a lot more in store for our poor old Dean yet. This chapter is not the last of his old man!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Well, hopefully this chapter kind of takes you by surprise. I mean, I think the overall outcome is obvious but with any luck the means isn't what you're expecting!**

 **Mandy, Awww, thank you lovely, I'm usually okay but occasionally have these meltdown moments. I'm happy to still be keeping you entertained all these stories later! Go Trish Stratus!**

 **Raze Olympus, No! Don't riot...maybe you won't have to, you'll just have to read and find out. But I think we all know there's going to be more drama before the end. It is me writing this after all!**

 **AngelsDestiny22, Yep, poor little Dean has been bottling it up for too long now and was going to have to blow up at some point. Hope this chapter loves up to expectations. I'm too mean to him!**

 **Skovko, Well, I was debating having Vickie Guerrero but went with Trish in the end because I thought she would be a slightly softer presence! Plus I couldn't fit in the famous ''excuse me!'**

 **Ohana1337, Okay, so I know you're not going to see this for a ton more chapters yet since you just started but just wanted to give you a big welcome back! Hope this story is still delivering!**

 **June3law, Oh yeah, Dean's dad is going all out in this one, he doesn't want some nice rich family giving his son a good life! But you're right, Dean has a new family now and it's so much better!**

 **Here we go then, the outcome!**

* * *

 **Twenty Five.**

Nobody really says _anything_ to Dean at first, which is fine because he wouldn't know what to say back. So instead they stand in the hall outside the courtroom and look around silently waiting for someone to break the hush.

Surprisingly that someone turns out to be Titus but he doesn't get far before Dean heads him off,

"Listen – ,"

"I know, I know, I screwed up alright? I blew the whole thing because I couldn't keep it shut."

There are bitter tears beginning to sting at his eyeballs and he scrubs them away furiously as he lowers his head. His chest heaves in and then out in quick succession and he is in very real danger of falling apart. Roman puts his hand out to draw him in closer but Dean shrugs him off because he doesn't deserve that.

Frankly he doesn't really deserve _anything_ because the truth of the matter is that he messed it all up. He had his potential freedom in his fingertips and then threw it all away in a single crazy burst.

" _Idiot_."

In anger he strikes his fist against his forehead and chokes out a sob, then does it again. This time when Roman grabs hold of him however, Dean lets him do it and doesn't back up, instead folding in against his adopted older brother and crying silent tears,

"Don't, you'll hurt yourself, alright?"

"Deserve it," Dean murmurs, his voice thick and croaky, "I – I ruined it, they'll make me go back."

"Hey," Roman grunts, trying to lever him back at bit and get a look at his face, "It's not over yet uce."

"Might as well be."

Roman's mother reaches out to him and smooths his hair sadly but it's Titus who replies,

"Well, come on now, we've still got our evidence and your father didn't act any better in there. Judge Stratus told him off _two_ times and there's more to her decision than just shouting in court."

"So – ," Dean sniffs, cuffing another tear off and a measure of hope lifting, "I still got a shot?"

Titus nods,

"If you keep it together, you think you can do that?"

Dean inhales a breath,

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"I – I just lost my temper because the last time I saw him he – he pretty much said I should die."

Roman's mother hadn't been told that bit after the confrontation and so she lets out a startled gasp. Titus meanwhile nods his understanding but keeps his face firm,

"I know, so do the courts, so trust they are going to do the right thing for you and simmer down."

Dean swallows.

"I will – like – scout's honor an' everythin'."

Titus lifts a brow,

" _Are_ you a scout?"

Dean snorts in disgruntlement as if the idea is anathema to his street credentials,

" _No_."

In response the lofty lawyer rolls his eyes somewhat but the answer is more _Dean-like_ and it makes them all smile, even Roman's father whose expression is more impassive but flickers sort of _warmly_ for a second or two.

 _Kids._

Snorting at the teenager and shaking his head a little, Papa Reigns turns Dean and gently shoos him off, ushering him in the direction of the bathrooms with waving hand motions,

"Go and get yourself washed up, there's only five minutes before they want us back in there and I'll be damned if he sees you walk in with a red-face. When you go past him you're going to do it with your head up and fire in your belly, do you hear me?"

"Yes sir," Dean's replying nod is emphatic and he means every word of it, "Won't let 'cha down."

"I'm sure you won't, now go on, time's wasting."

Roman unravels the embrace Dean is tucked in and then moves as if to flank him, but the teenager makes him stop, suddenly buoyed by Papa Reigns' pep talk and feeling much more confident.

"S' okay, I'll be fine."

"You sure about that uce?"

Roman seems doubtful and so Dean paints on a smile,

"Uh huh, be back in a blink."

Dean's father had stormed off the moment the doors were opened, chasing through the gallery and down the hall to lick his wounds. Dean sort of imagines that he's outside somewhere smoking or chugging on a hipflask or swallowing something down. Either way, he isn't around them and similarly knowing it, Roman raises his hands.

"Okay, sure, but come right back you hear me?"

Roman's mother catches his sleeve and smiles fondly,

"He's not a child."

Roman grumbles in return but says nothing and Dean motions teasingly in a silent _cross my heart_. The bigger man snorts but then shoos him off like his father and Dean turns and scuttles away down the hall. The bathrooms are directly around the next corner and so he can still hear them talking as he pushes through the doors. There's a cubicle taken but the others are empty and so Dean leans against the sinks and draws in a deep breath.

The overhead lighting isn't terribly flattering and shows up the bruises still lingering on. For the most part they have faded completely but from some angles the yellowness hasn't totally gone. Worse than that, his cheeks are all blotchy which highlights the discoloration even more and his blue eyes are watery and raw from all the scrubbing and he blinks at himself.

What a mess he's become.

Running the taps he ducks his head below the mixer and splashes cold water up hard into his face. The droplets are icy and make him gasp a little but they also slap life into him and lift up the fog. Behind him the occupied cubicle door opens with a dull sounding creak but he pays it never mind and simply continues to blast away his sadness with icy fresh water.

Take that dad, take _that_.

When he finally decides that he's done enough dowsing he gropes for the napkins stacked up on the side, clanging his knuckles against the tap and then cursing before a hand holds one out to him,

"Here, lemme' get that."

The tone is deeply gruff and condescending but shot through with a sound like amusement as well. Instantly Dean knows who's doing the speaking and a chill shivers through him.

Oh no and holy shit _._

Swiping at his eyes to dispel the drops of water, Dean blinks up in pure horror at his old man, who is standing directly – _directly_ – in front of him and trapping him up between his body and the sinks. The smell of alcohol and staleness is overwhelming but also horribly familiar as well and it sends his body into actual vibrations that shake their way through him.

He has to get out.

Instinctively he lurches to one side to get away from him, hoping against hope to outrun the older man, but Dean's father's reactions have always been speedy and so he grabs the scruff of the kid's jacket and spins him round, walking him backwards and then slamming him bodily – so that air rushes out of him – into the wall behind the door.

"You _boy_ , think you're fuckin' clever don't you?"

Dean stammers back at him, squirming,

"N- _no_ – ,"

" _Don't_ lie to me," Dean's father shakes him roughly, "You think you've got this all sewn up. Bellowin' at me in front of all those people, callin' me a bad parent, remember that you lil' shit?"

Flecks of spittle are raining down across him and there is a spark of pure fury in the older man's eyes. It's exactly the same look he was wearing those weeks earlier when he had knocked the kid almost unconscious and then meticulously tied him up. It's a look that promises pretty extreme suffering but it's even further gone now –

To Dean it promises death.

Twisting again and whimpering slightly only manages to annoy his father more because he bodily lifts Dean up off the floor tiles until he is holding his whole weight by the shirt around his neck.

"You damn well deserved everythin' you fuckin' _got_ from me an' don't you forget it."

This is it, Dean's going to die. In the goddamn courthouse about fifty feet from Roman and –

 _Roman_.

A spark lights up in his eyes.

If he can somehow get loose and get to Roman or even get his attention then his uce will make things right, which is why – or _how_ since he's being half strangled – he winces and drives his kneecap up high, burying it deep into the middle of a ball sack and then plummeting to the ground as his father curses and stumbles back.

"Why you little fucker – ,"

Dean only partly hears it because he's too busy moving and almost bursting through the door.

" _Roman_ – ,"

His yell bounces wildly out around the corridor but still doesn't sound anything near loud enough. It's hard to tell though since his ears are both whistling and the breath is tearing out of him which sort of mutes everything else. His knees are knocking too which makes his sprinting pretty clumsy although as he staggers around the corner he tries again,

"Roma – _oof_ ,"

This time he only manages to get the word half out because without any warning a large mass hits his side, throwing him hopelessly, irretrievably off balance and planting him against the brickwork on the hallway's other side. It bites against his cheek and he hisses at the sensation but he can't even move because he's being pinned up, cold calloused hands scrabbling tightly at his wrists and holding him as foul breath heaves across his face,

"You goddamn lil' _shit_."

" _Dean_."

Glancing up from where he's being flattened rewards him with probably the world's greatest sight. That of Roman half-flying down the corridor with his suit jacket flapping and his fists already clenched. He slams into Dean's father with the force of a wrecking ball and propels him so fiercely that the older man falls back, landing on his ass on the thin courthouse carpet as his fingers slide from Dean but still paint deep red tracks.

"What did I tell you before about touchin' him?" Roman yells in fury, "I didn't make myself clear?"

Dean's old man sort of winces a little and it's obvious that the fall has really damn hurt, but since he's not about to come right out and say it he decides to go with cockiness instead,

"He's my damn son, I'll treat him any way I want to."

"Not for long you won't."

Roman steps close again, moving to lay the older man horizontal and only stopping as Titus slides breathlessly in, inserting himself like a gigantic wall between them and pushing him back,

"Whoa, Roman, easy, easy man."

" _Easy_?" Roman splutters, "Did you not see what happened?"

Somewhere from behind them Roman's mother appears suddenly and sweeps Dean up into a tight maternal hug. He goes with it willingly, trembling against her and gripping her sweater like he's been shipwrecked for months. Roman's father too arrives puffing amidst the tension and puts his hands on his offspring's shoulders,

"Roman, son, we could all see, including the cameras they have set up around here – ,"

"He's needs to be taught pop."

Papa Reigns coos back,

"He _has_."

Pointing behind him he makes Roman spin a bit to gaze up the hallway he has only just flown down. Dean looks too – over the crook of Mama Reigns' elbow – and together they stare at Judge Trish Stratus who is silhouetted like an angel at the end of the carpet and staring down shrewdly.

"I'd like to see you in the courtroom now."

Her eyes are sharply focused on Dean's father but soften very lightly as she glances back at him. Dean's breath hitches and Roman's mother holds him tighter, running her fingers back and forth across his hair,

"You're alright sweetie, you're alright, you're safe now."

Titus lets out a snort,

"Well this is justice right here."

Somewhere in the background, Dean's father stumbles upright and pushes past Roman to stagger down the corridor. His eyes are firmly focused on the official as she stands arms folded and watches him come. Dean shivers lightly as he watches his parent but there is something in the gruff voice that he hasn't heard in a while. It sounds imploring and angry at being vanquished.

In short it sounds alittle like despair.

"Now you wait a minute, it's not what it looks like, that big tanned shit came outta _nowhere_."

"Mr Ambrose," Judge Stratus warns, raising an eyebrow as her security guard steps in to block the man off and – _fuck_ – Dean finds himself actually grinning because he knows what's coming and he can feel it in the air.

"These damn fuckers," Dean's father gestures at them, "They're tryin' to steal away my boy."

"Like I said," Judge Stratus shoots back firmly, "You'll get your say but it might be quite short."

As Dean's father continues protesting his innocence and playing the victim much like he always does, Roman moves in closer to his mother and puts out a hand out, squeezing Dean's shoulders,

"Uce, you alright?"

Dean nods back and this time he even means it.

"I'm not going back am I?"

Roman smiles at him.

"No you're not."

* * *

 **Happy ending right? Um, maybe? We've still got several chapters to go and I'm cruel (as we've already established) so...**


	26. Twenty Six

**Here comes the aftermath of Dean's day in court then, time our boy had a bit of a win! Brother feelings run hard in this one, so strap yourselves down for some big bromance vibes!**

 **Skovko, Dean's father is so smug he thought he could win no matter what happened, plus I don't think all the booze much helped! Dean is definitely the smart one of his family, no contest there!**

 **Stingerette1975, Okay, so maybe I'm not** _ **that**_ **evil, but I'm going to have my moments before this story is out! Note to self: never attack someone in court when you're trying to claim non-violence!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Glad you're enjoying this story too, we're getting close to the end now, but there's still plenty of action and family feels to go!**

 **HannonsPen, Ouch, sorry to hear about your horrible infection, so many people are ill at the moment! Glad you enjoyed the last few chapters, there's still some drama left to come though!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Well, I figured it was high time that I threw a bit more action in there, besides which it was only a matter of time before Dean's dad totally screwed things up! Go Roman!**

 **June3law, I wish as well that Dean didn't ever have to deal with him again. I mean, I guess I could have written it like that too, but in the end I went a different way! Poor Dean has more drama yet!**

 **Rebel8954, Or maybe Papa Reigns beating Dean's dad with a filofax while Mama Reigns wields to spoon?! Karma is close, but not quite arrived yet...you know what they say about it being a bitch?!**

 **Sodapop25, Happy endings are kind of my speciality, but that doesn't mean we don't still have to get through a bit more trauma first to make it more worthwhile!**

 **Raze Olympus, Well, I might be able to promise one of those things, but I'm not going to reveal which one it is because I happen to be mercilessly cruel like that! Dean's dad is done yet though!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Haha, that's a very vivid ending you have imagine for Dean's old man, but totally no less than he deserves. As for him popping up again? Yeah, okay, so you might be right there!**

 **Mandy, Awww, I'm sorry to hear you've had a bad week, me too, it has literally been the worst for meltdowns! Glad I could help in a very little way with this chapter, sending big hugs!**

 **Minnie1015, I'm so close to giving up with the alerts things, it been nearly two weeks now and no fixes...gah! But glad you liked the chapter anyway, I literally based the entire thing on that!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, I'm glad The Beast is happy. Does it have Paul Heyman for representation by the way? Hopefully the final chapters will make it even happier, because there is a lot more angst!**

 **Tfan23, Hi there, glad you've been enjoying it and yeah, I guess I could have ended on a happy note there, but nope, I need to toy with your emotions a bit more first! Sorry teen Dean!**

 **Ohana1337, Welcome to the party! Glad you're enjoying it and I probably do need slapping with a wooden spoon at times, so I would totally accept that! Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.**

 **Back to it...**

* * *

 **Twenty Six.**

As a result of the attempted beatdown in the corridor, Judge Stratus sides with Dean and although his father tries to prevent it and spin some wild sob story the gavel bangs down.

That's it.

Just like that, Dean is free.

An emancipated, fully legal teenage boy-man.

As soon as it happens people sort of erupt around him, with Titus letting out an uncharacteristic cry of _suck it_ and Roman's parents launching up holding hands. Roman – thankfully – is slightly more measured and doesn't do a thing until Dean's father storms out, mumbling and yelling about things _not_ _being over_ but leaving which is the important bit.

Dean's father _leaves_.

"Hey, uce?" Roman's hand comes down on his shoulder and he swings his eyes up, looking dazed, "You alright?"

Dean nods back, humming out a note which isn't too convincing but which sums up his emotions since he doesn't know _how_ to feel. Happy sure, but the sensations go beyond that because it isn't as if things can _get back to normal_ now, everything is new which means there is no real normal.

 _Normal_ is something Dean can now carve for himself.

Problem is he doesn't know what he wants from that but the one thing he _does_ know is that he doesn't want change. At least not on the Reigns household arrangements because – damn it – he's _happy_ there and he wants to stay around. Not that they are really obliged to keep him on now, not in _legal_ sense anyhow. On a personal level though he really hopes they'll stick it out with him because he –

He _loves_ them and he can't let them go now.

Which is why for the next three days after the trial's done, Dean exists in a highly anxious state, smiling through the compliments and celebratory dinners and appearing to be happy when internally he wants to burst. The idea of being a fully-fledged adult had been massively appealing when faced with his dad but the reality of it is actually damn scary and he isn't sure he's ready to be completely on his own.

It comes to a head on the third night of freedom when the bulk of the salutations and celebrating has died down. Dean is up in Roman's room playing Sega games but plods towards the kitchen at Mama Reigns' shout of _dinner time_. When he gets there though, the meal is only half-cooked and instead the three Reigns' – the ones that matter most to him, Roman and his parents – are sitting silently staring back, each of them wearing a look Dean can't place yet but which makes his stomach turn over in dread.

 _Shit._

"Sit down son," Papa Reigns smiles at him, but it's almost as though he's readying Dean for a fall, "We need to have a little discussion."

Dean drops into a chair with a thud, his knees beginning to shake in apprehension which flows up into his fingers until they restlessly drum and tap. Roman is staring back at him, his expression seeming easy which confuses Dean more because what the _hell_ is going on?

"It's about your living arrangements going forward – ,"

Well, that it's then, they're kicking him out and Dean can't help the fierce panic that rises up in him or the way he surges in almost _across_ the table top, talking at a million miles an hour and saying anything he can think of that might change their minds,

"No, please don't, I – I can do better, I can do more, like, _chores_ an' stuff around the house. An' I know I wake you all up with my nightmares but I really think they'll be better now it's done. I just – I just don't want you guys to ditch me. I'll do anythin' you want – ,"

Roman's mother launches up, her face an absolute patchwork of emotions as the skirts around the table and sweeps him up in her arms, tucking him in against her breastbone so fiercely that it pokes into Dean's head and physically _hurts_. It doesn't matter though, Dean clings right on back to her, fisting up her blouse so tightly in his fingers that his knuckles turn white and threaten to pop off.

"Honey no," Mama Reigns whispers back at him, teary but adamant, "We're not giving you up."

"You – you're not?"

Roman snorts in reply to him, shaking his head from side to side,

"You idiot, of course we're not."

Even _Papa_ Reigns – who's usually not so quick with heartfelt – manages to adopt a sort of benevolent looking grin.

"Son, you don't have to worry about anything, our association with you doesn't end with the case. What did I tell you before, huh? You're _family_. Legal or otherwise. You're a part of our team."

Clearing his throat Dean shuffles himself back a bit, although Roman's mother stays put, stroking her fingers through his hair. It's pretty damn typical that now he feels stupid and his cheeks flush with embarrassment about having totally freaked out.

 _God damn moron._

"We're not kickin' you out uce," Roman offers evenly, breaking through the _self-loathing_ train, "What I was gonna suggest is movin' in to my place, it's downtown, closer to work, a real boys pad."

Roman winks and somewhere above him, Mama Reigns hums unhappily,

"No girls and no parties either, I don't care what the judge says, he's still just a child."

Roman grins,

"Whatever you say mom."

"Roman Reigns you give me your word."

But before he can answer and put her out of her misery, Dean speaks up with a baffled sounding frown, still working on the suggestion thrown out some time earlier which is making his brain spin.

"Move in with you?"

"Yeah," Roman shrugs, "You know, as roommates."

Dean blinks back,

"I – I want to pay rent."

It's not the sentence he's actually thinking or – frankly – the one they're expecting to hear, but to his credit Roman merely nods back at him and spreads his hands wide,

"If that's what you want."

The rest of the evening – much like the three days that preceded it – are spent in semi-dazed sort of _bubble world_ , where real life seems to be moving all around him and he's stuck there in slow motion, watching it all whizz about.

He is going to be living with Roman.

Paying rent like an adult.

He's going to have his own life.

Better than that, he will still have the Reigns' and be part of their family and whatever else that entails. Dreamily he even thinks about Christmas and trees and cookies and warmth and all that. It's weird how much he wants a movie-style holiday like the ones he's seen on television as a kid and now it seems like a genuine reality because they're _not_ getting rid of him.

 _You're a part of our team_.

They decide that it's best to move sooner rather than later so that he and Roman can establish their own groove, which means that Dean's last night in the Reigns house – in the bedroom he sees as _his_ now – is just two nights after that. There's a big meal to celebrate or possibly commiserate and Mama Reigns makes a gigantic _new home_ cake which Dean claims is his since it's not a new home for Roman, just the one he has with a shiny new roommate.

Packing up Dean's stuff isn't exactly a lengthy process and there's no need for removal trucks or back and forth trips. In the end it all fits on the backseat of Roman's pickup and is mostly comprised of stuff Mama Reigns has bought, like bed linen and towels and a whole _bunch_ more clothing which he still feels kind of weird about – her spending all their money – but cannot seem to find a way to turn down. His own things – the items that he took from his father's house – take up a solitary and very small cardboard box and so by late afternoon they are packed up and ready and saying goodbye on the Reigns' front porch.

Despite the fact they will be a twenty minute drive away – fifteen if gunning it or if they hit a lot of greens – Roman's mother still farewells them like they'll be a couple of _states_ across which Dean doesn't actually mind one little bit. It's been years since he has been cosseted or mothered and although he loved his own mom, she had never been a _huggy_ type. Mama Reigns on the other hand is like a god damn fairytale and so he buries his head against her and sniffles just a little bit. Roman's father by contrast, simply put a hand out and shakes it so hard that Dean is worried it might fall off. But then – just as he's starting to pull it away again – he slaps his other broad hand over the top, waiting until the teen's blue eyes drift up to him and then smiling,

"Son? You take care of yourself."

He nods,

"I will, an' thanks for – uh – everythin'."

 _For saving my life._

Roman's father nods but then doesn't let his hand go until Roman claps,

"Alright, let's hit the road."

"Remember, family dinner on Wednesday, you'll be here?"

"Sure mom," Roman grins, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

But he ushers Dean into the car with an eye roll that says _uh parents_ and makes the kid grin back. Not that Dean really agrees necessarily – compared to his folks, the Reigns' are a _dream_ – but he's happy to be involved in the familial exasperation because it means he's a part of it.

 _A part of our team._

Roman lives in a nice downtown apartment, which has underground parking and reaches up into the sky. It's clad with big windows made of some reflective glass stuff which blocks out prying eyes and makes the building look black. It's pretty damn cool and Dean gapes up at it as Roman punches in the number and drives the pickup down the ramps.

Between them they manage to get Dean's stuff up in one hit, with Dean ferrying boxes while Roman holds back the elevator doors. They're probably causing like a _heap_ of dissension from other people waiting for the thing to arrive and they leave – like – no space for anyone else to get in with them but it saves them another journey and so Dean doesn't mind.

"You ready then uce?" Roman asks him grinning as he unlocks and prepares to fling open the door,

"Uh huh."

Dean is so much more than ready that he lightly starts bouncing,

"Here she is, home sweet home."

The apartment itself, is open-plan, large and airy with wall to wall picture windows and a breath-taking city view. It's the sort of apartment that business moguls have in movies and Dean cannot believe it is where he'll be living now. It's too nice for him. Too clean and unspoilt to have a scruffy street kid knocking around. Because that's what he is and probably always _will_ be. He's got nice clothes now but he'll always be sub-par. Luckily however, Roman interprets his silence with impeccable understanding and ruffles his hair,

"Don't worry uce, I don't much belong here either, we're both livin' off someone else's money for the most part, just until we make our fortunes though, 'cos once the gym takes off, you an' me will be payin' for _them_ ,"

Dean snorts wryly,

"Yeah, that's gonna happen."

"Never know," Roman shrugs, "Now come on, check out your new room."

The room is – unsurprisingly – modern and tidy if not slightly smaller than the one in Roman's parents' house. Whereas _that_ however, was soft and pretty neutral this room is more manly in reds and dark greys. Part of Dean's belongings include the football comforter, which Roman's mom has thoughtfully gifted across, having seen Dean wrapped protectively in the covers in the throes of a nightmare too many times to take it back. Therefore it's the very first thing that Dean lays out again before lining up his books on the in-built shelves beside the bed. There are sliding door closets which easily take his clothing and leave a lot of room to spare and a handy in-built desk with a funky grey swivel chair for when – or _if_ – he needs to bring home any work.

Roman leaves him to it and by the time that Dean has unloaded things and put them in their places, the skies have gone dark. Roman is sitting on the couch in the living room, the lights of the city twinkling merrily behind. There's a whole bunch of noise coming from the television and Roman is wrestling with a playstation controller at some street racing game.

"Here uce, take the wheel."

In response Dean plops down happily beside him and sinks into the couch with his tongue poking out. Roman is racing with some almighty sports car but he's gone way _off piste_ and is crashing through a park,

"Man, I'm glad you don't drive like this in real life."

"How do you know I don't?"

"Um, because you drive me all the time?"

"Yeah, day to day," Roman fires back at him, leaning back with a beer and a contented sounding sigh, "But you oughta see me when I'm illegal drag racing, _whole_ 'nother story."

Dean rolls his eyes,

"Uh huh."

At some point Roman must have ordered a pizza because there's a call on the intercom and Roman buzzes the guy up. It's a loaded cheese crust with extra pepperoni and barbecue sauce and the damn thing looks insane. It's probably enough to feed twenty people but the pair of them manage to wade through it all the same. There's soda for Dean and leftover cake for afters which means once they have eaten Dean feels pretty sick. But happy as well – like – _stupidly_ happy and settled as if the place is just where he's meant to be. At one point he even drifts off on the sofa, but is woken by Roman nudging him in the ribs,

"Huh? Wha – ,"

"Got one more thing for you, I think you might need 'em if you're gonna be living here."

Roman grins and then holds a set of keys up, with three jangling items hanging off a metal _D_.

"What – ," Dean blinks and rubs the sleep from his vision, feeling lightly dazed, "What are they for?"

"Apartment," Roman answers, wiggling the first one, "Mailbox and this one here is for the gym."

"The gym? I get – I get my own key there?"

Roman snorts,

"Well you're practically co-manager at this point, or maybe the damn business development officer. So yeah, that means you get your own key."

For a second Dean merely sits open-mouthed and stares at them because the whole seems surreal and strangely kind of big. In the end Roman simply grabs his hand and drops them into it and Dean's palm seals around them, holding the keys safe.

"Thank you uce," Dean murmurs back huskily, not sure he can put the feeling into words. Fortunately however – since it's Roman – he doesn't _have_ to because the big man just snorts at him,

"Don't mention it roomie."

* * *

 **Isn't it nice that Dean's all happy and loved? So let's keep it like this forever more…**

 **No? Okay, check back in two days for the return of the drama!**


	27. Twenty Seven

**Time for Daddy Dearest to peek his head into things again...we're slowly building up to the grand finale here!**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Dean has everything he's ever wanted, so naturally his horrible old man is going to want to ruin things, but Roman is going to try and stop him, as you will see (I hope!)**

 **Minnie1015, Brother vibes for the win! My favourite part of writing this story, just shameless bonding moments! I hope I sort of wrap things up at the end, but then there is the sequel…**

 **Sodapop25, Yeah, I figured I owed poor Dean and Roman some awww moments after everything they've been through...right before I rip the rug out from under them!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Well, Dean might be scarred emotionally by what happens over the next few chapters that's for sure, so your angst loving beast I** _ **think**_ **should be happy!**

 **Raze Olympus, Don't riot until we get to the end at least! Then, if you're still not happy, I'll lay down my riot shields and accept all tramplings and bottle throwings! Deal?!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Dean is totally like Bambi...maybe I should do an ice skating chapter (kidding!) Your horror movie credentials definitely shine through! Glad you're feeling better and still liking this!**

 **Tfan23, Well, I don't know if this chapter counts as a plot twist or a warning, but there's certainly something big in store coming before we end this story! Glad you're still loving it though!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying this wild little idea of mine, which bloomed into a huge long story, but we are drawing close to the end now! (There is a sequel though!)**

 **Mandy, Haha, Dean is a total man-boy, old before his time in some respects but then just a bit gangly puppy dog in other ways. Always happy my posts make you smile!**

 **Funby57, Since real Dean left school early I figured I would stick to that here (sort of, except he's not a wrestler!) He** _ **is**_ **a business prodigy though, so I guess that's something? Good point though!**

 **Ohana1337, Can't have fluff all the time! You know me though, it will eventually return and okay, though it might sputter a bit first, we'll get there in the end! Aww, always happy to up spirits!**

 **Shanynde, Well, not in this one, but there is a hint of romance of a sort in the sequel that I've written, so if you're interested in reading that too, then I think you might end up being happy!**

 **Stingerette1975, I figured it was about time we had a shameless brothers bonding chapter with lots of sleepy happy Dean and fluff! But yes, the drama is set the return, pretty heavily too!**

 **Skovko, Cuteness factors set to warp speed! Kinda kills those vibes in this chapter though, then resurrect them before killing them again totally in the next chapter, so...yeah...guilty as charged!**

 **Onwards then everybody...**

* * *

 **Twenty Seven.**

The day of Dean's weight lifting competition comes round quickly and the kid is so excited he's almost dancing on his feet. By the time Roman stumbles out into their kitchen – still wearing his pajamas – the teen is already dressed and firing the coffee machine up to full capacity as he races around putting eggs and bacon on a plate.

"Uh, Dean?" Roman blinks at him, watching his pint-sized roommate, "What're you doing?"

"I'm helpin' you get up," Dean shrugs back then darts off round the island as two pieces of toast pop, "We need to be at the gym super early, remember? Need to get down there and get stuff all set up."

He shunts a plate – which actually smells heavenly – and a steaming cup of coffee directly under Roman's face and then rushes off to start packing bits of paper and detailed plans for the day that he has made.

Roman grunts and skewers a piece of bacon – the succulence of which makes him slowly come back to life – and attempts to move himself a little faster to stop Dean imploding or maybe burning out. For the last three weeks the kid has lived and breathed the competition thing and has thrown himself into it with passion and intent. It seems to have worked too since they've certainly had interest and the last time he checked ticket sales they'd been almost sold out. There's a band turning up – kids who play their basement but if nothing else it will be some background sound – and there are a variety of hotdog and falafel carts coming to cope with the expected demand for good hot food. In short what Dean and Truth have pulled together is almost a mini block party of sorts and frankly, the kid deserves to have every success with it because – not just on this, but in _life_ – he's worked damn hard.

"Come _on_ uce,"

"Alright, alright," Roman grumbles, "I'm coming, just let me have a shower and I'll be there."

In total Dean has been his new roommate for about a month now and in the last ten days or so the nightmares have died down. Roman likes to think that it's because the kid is settled and that certainly outwardly seems to be the case. He's nervous now about the competition but beyond that he isn't so fearful anymore and not for the first time – as he drives them towards their workplace with Dean in the passenger seat almost swinging his heels – Roman contemplates the power of love and security and what they can do to turn around a life.

" _Shit_ ," Dean barks, as they come around the corner and it startles Roman from his musings at once, "Look at that, there's crowds here already."

Roman blinks up.

Yep, the kid is right.

Despite the fact it doesn't start for another hour, the streets already has a carnival feel which honestly Roman would have never thought possible in a neighborhood that is as desolate and rundown as it is. Suddenly however it feels excited and friendly and bright.

Dean has done that.

People have come out to see a contest, eat and socialize and in a sudden rush of brotherliness, Roman has never been more proud. It is a feeling which only doubles when his parents' turn up later to support Dean's idea assuming few locals would turn out. His father's look of wonder _alone_ is damn near worth it as he squeezes through the crowds towards his son,

"My word – ,"

"I know," Roman grins, "The boy done good, huh?"

Roman's mother looks around,

"Where is Dean?"

"Backstage, he's busy giving the contestants their numbers and layin' out how it's gonna go down."

Somewhere beside them on the stage they have set up, Truth is taking a turn as hype-man for the band, whipping the crowd up into such a cheering frenzy that the teenage rocker wannabes won't be able to compare, but – hell – people seem to be enjoying all the crazy and so Roman lets it happen with a wry shake of his head, almost missing his father's next question as he drinks in the success,

"So this was all Dean's idea?"

"From inception to delivery – I mean, Truth and I helped – but the vision was _all_ his."

Roman's father smiles in response to him and hums a little note out,

"He's quite the businessman."

"Sure is," Roman beams, "My little brother's a god damn _natural_."

"Think he wants to work for me?"

"Nah, he's happy where he is."

For a moment both father and son grin at each other until Roman's father reaches up and swings a loving arm around, pulling the head down onto his shoulder in near enough the same way that Roman does to Dean. He finishes it up with a slap to the pectorals and a contented little grunt,

"I'm proud of you son,"

"Me?"

Roman blinks, not having expected _that_ one because this event is Dean's and not remotely his at all. His father however merely nods back at him, sounding more sincere that he has maybe ever done.

"Of course _you_ boy, look at what you've done here."

"It wasn't my idea pop."

"I know, I meant with Dean."

"You – what?"

His mother is standing smiling alongside them as if she knows word for word what's about to come. Roman's father in return finally lets go of him which allows Roman to look up and into a warm and glowing face,

"You saved that boy's life, you plucked him out of misery, took a chance on him when nobody else would and – listen – I know that I have been a little harsh on you for dropping out of college and I apologize for that. I _also_ apologize for saying you didn't stick at things or gave up too easily. That isn't the case. The truth is, I don't think – if the roles had been reversed here – that I'd have put have the amount of time into the boy that you have and that would have been my mistake to deal with because Dean is an incredible, remarkable kid."

Roman chokes an amazed sounding breath out, not sure how to take it,

"Pop – ,"

His father lifts a hand and it's clear from the glaze across his steely expression that he's tearful and wants to get the whole thing out before he breaks.

Huh.

Maybe Roman's teddy bearish side isn't from his mother.

Maybe it has always – _always_ – come from his old man.

"So in short, I'm proud of you boy, very proud of you."

Roman moves in suddenly, sweeping him up into a hug and leaving his father with very little option but to fold his arms around and hug him right back, which the bigger man does with a desperate ferocity that almost breaks Roman's bones.

He doesn't really mind.

"Love you pop."

"Love you back son."

But then his father coughs and the moment is done, the Reigns family patriarch filling out his quota of hands-on affection for about the next year and Roman's mother laughs just a little and then hides it behind her hand in a fond sort of huff. Roman is very, _very_ lucky to have them and he feels that more strongly than ever before.

Somewhere in the crowd a sudden cheer rises as the gym doors open and the contestants lumber out, some of them dressed casually and clearly all business and others oiled up and looking crazily buff. Behind them in the doorway they can see Dean hovering and directing them out like he's air traffic control.

"Just going to say hello to our _other_ boy," Roman's mother whispers, touching his arm and Roman nods as Truth's voice rings out again, ramping up the tension as only he can.

"Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, your contestants for this year's weight lifting contest have arrived, don't be shy now, give 'em some applause here, I wanna see those hands in the air."

Roman snorts and then glances towards his parents who are now busy chatting with a broadly beaming Dean. The crowd is happy and the street is rammed with people, which means exposure and hopefully money for the gym.

Really, the moment is too god damn perfect.

Which is why it's fucking typical that his eyes find Dean's old man, standing in the crowd looking smug and full of arrogance as he glares across the space as bold as you like.

Dean's old man.

It takes a bit to register but when it does it is total.

 _Dean's old man._

Crap.

Roman's first instinct is to check that Dean's not spotted him, which he fortunately hasn't since his _own_ parents still have him nabbed. His second instinct then is to beat the shit clean out of him although when he turns back, the asshole is gone.

Roman frowns.

He can't have gone that far and so he quickly begins to elbow through the crowd, ignoring the shouts and protests as he does so and scanning each face for the eerie drunken scowl.

"Come out," Roman murmurs, "Come out you asshole,"

But he doesn't lay eyes on the wrath-inducing figure until he gets to the chain link right over the other side, which Dean's father seems to have somehow managed to crawl through or else has _climbed_ _over_ which is an impressive feat while drunk. He's trying to sprint off like the coward he will always be and so Roman calls him out on it as he hammers against the fence,

"What? Am I not defenceless enough for you?"

The older man stops and then swaggers, smirking back,

"Hit you before didn't I?"

"Lucky shot, won't happen next time."

Dean's father comes right up and presses his face against the square links which are just too small for Roman to get his hands through. But that doesn't mean he hasn't ruled out trying or maybe doing something else liking poking the asshole's eyes out.

"How's my lil' Deano doing?"

" _My little brother_ is doin' just fine, happier now that your ass ain't around him."

Alcohol breath wafts back and Roman screws his face up,

"That boy is mine – he'll always be mine, y' can't stop that, s' nature – ,"

"You lost him, go home."

Dean's father shakes his head resolutely and throws a bitter laugh out,

"I _will_ have what's mine."

"I swear to god," Roman rumbles forcefully, flexing the fencing like he can somehow bust through, "If you come near him ever again I will end you and that's not a threat, it's a _promise_ , believe that."

Dean's father snorts and then backs away laughing and there is something dangerous and unrepentant on his face.

He won't give up and nor is he bluffing.

Which means Roman is going to have to keep Dean even more close.

* * *

 **Next chapter, things go very right and then very, very wrong.**

 **See you there!**


	28. Twenty Eight

**Here we are then, good things and bad things (I'm so sorry Dean!)**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Roman has been through too much for Dean to let his father ruin things now. Unfortunately though, he might not get much of a say in this chapter. Big drama here!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Oops, no random gunshots and I'm afraid we haven't seen the last of Dean's old man quite yet. Dean might definitely be having more nightmares soon because I'm cruel!**

 **LHisawesome4ever, Yep, guilty as charged, I'm a total tease but hopefully the teasing for this chapter is worth it because there's some serious (and fluffy) stuff going on in here!**

 **Minnie1015, Had to drop in a 'believe that' somewhere, it wouldn't have felt right if I hadn't! Now, as for the characters hurting and being in trouble...well, okay...your wish is my command!**

 **Mandy, I thought it was about time that Papa Reigns show off his big softie side, because he can't be a rough tough businessman all the time! More cute family stuff here too, well, partly!**

 **Sodapop25, Thanks, I hope you like this one, we're really building up towards the end now, so got to have one final crack at the drama whip before we bow out. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Stingerette1975, If you're annoyed about Dean's dad trying to ruin the last chapter, this one might tip you over the edge! As for Papa Reigns, he was always a soft touch, it was just hidden at times!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, I couldn't resist a sequel, I felt there were still a few things I needed to do with these characters, so hopefully once we finish this one, I'll see you there when I post it up!**

 **June3law, Well, they definitely need to something about Dean's father, as you're going to see. The guy just can't leave well enough alone. Glad you're still enjoying the ride!**

 **Skovko, Dean's dad is going to do more than just mess up in this chapter. But I don't want to totally ruin the surprise so I'm going to zip it and let you read...believe that!**

 **Raze Olympus, Yay! Thank you for calling off the riot, that is very generous. Gonna be a bumpy ride for a little while, but I think when this story ends you'll be wearing a smile!**

 **HannonsPen, Well, you might hate Dean's dad even more after this! But you might also love Roman's dad a little more! This chapter is pretty huge so buckle up!**

 **Again, I'm sorry Dean!**

* * *

 **Twenty Eight.**

By the time Roman stumbles out of the shower and into some hopefully smart- _ish_ looking threads, Dean has already laid out the table and is waiting by the door rocking impatiently on his feet.

Roman chuckles,

"You look like an expectant father."

Dean frowns,

"M' not, m' just excited about tonight."

Roman snorts and then tramples past him lazily before extracting an ice cold beer from the fridge. He twists the cap off and takes a deep gulp of it before smacking his lips in appreciation,

"That's _good_."

"Roman?"

"What?"

Dean is looking dead at him, seeming even _more_ antsy than he had been before,

"Don't get – like – drunk or anythin' will you?"

"One beer won't get me drunk Dean."

"That's what _he_ always said."

The sentence is mumbled but still causes shockwaves and in an instant nearly everything seems to make sense. Well, not everything, maybe only the antsy part but it's still crystal clear and Roman curses himself.

 _Damn._

Of course Dean is going to be anxious around drinking when the person he grew up with is an alcohol sodden sham, when booze is almost the sole reason for all his beatings and the bile he has endured.

Roman puts the bottle down.

"Hey, uce, I didn't – ,"

Dean cuts him off again, attempting to move past it,

"What time they gettin' here again?"

He's talking about their guests for the evening, the very _non_ booze-addled Mama and Papa Reigns,

"Uh, any minute," Roman checks his wristwatch and then compares it against their wall clock, "Probably parking up now."

"Right."

Dean nods and then resumes his nervous bouncing and it makes Roman frown,

"What're you twitchy about?"

"I don't know – ,"

"You sure about that brother?"

Dean's shoulders shrug erratically,

"I just – I just really want it to go well."

Roman snorts,

"They're comin' round for pizza dude, not sure it's even possible to screw that shit up."

Dean shakes his head, deflecting the humor and it's clear that Roman just isn't getting what's wrong. Maybe a few months ago he would have had to keep prodding but now Dean offers the burning issue on his own.

 _Progress._

"It's just – y' know – they always do so much for us, well, me mostly, but like _cookin'_ an' stuff – ,"

Roman sucks a breath in,

"So you want to repay them by giving them a nice night?"

The teen nods at him,

"Yeah."

"Well in _that_ case then," Roman smiles gently, crossing the space and tousling the scruffy locks, "Better go see if you can find the old scrabble board – oh – and watch out for my dad, that crafty codger makes up words."

Dean rolls his eyes but smiles very mildly which is luckily still the case when Roman's parents arrive. They come clutching wine and a big box of chocolates and although he isn't a big fan of alcohol, Dean likes confectionary and sugar just fine although he manages not to dive into the tray like a truffle pig and simply leaves them on the counter before stretching his arms out,

"Take y' coats?"

"Thank you honey," Mama Reigns coos at him, shrugging off her scarf, "What a good host you are."

Dean beams at her and then shuffles to Roman's father before repeating the process with a very proper sounding,

"Sir?"

"Thank you son, that would be very nice."

With the winter garments safely dumped on Roman's king-size the four of them sit down and start shooting the breeze, passing the takeout pizza menu between them as they catch up on what else has been happening in their week.

Timewise it has been six days since the contest which _also_ means six days since Dean's father last came round. Dean doesn't know – Roman hasn't told him – but it's a lingering worry that stays in his mind and also the reason he buys a few cameras to install outside the gym.

It's always better to be prepared.

"Son?" Roman's father questions from the armchair and Roman jolts a little, "Everything alright?"

On the long brown sofa Dean is helping Roman's mother narrow down pizza options.

The big man nods,

"Yep, fine."

In the end – after another half hour of deliberation – they go with two extra-large pizzas to share. Roman makes the call while Dean un-bags salad and adds dressing while Roman's mother helps.

"Not too much honey, oh, throw in those croutons, always nice to have a little bit of crunch."

Roman stands and watches them for a second, touched as always by how well they get along. There's something about the two of them that just seems so natural and simple and effortless. Clearly Dean thinks so too because as Roman's mother moves away with the salad bowl, Dean holds up a pepper and calls after her,

"Hey, mom?"

The second it is over his lips he freezes and so too does the rest of the room.

Nobody speaks and the blood runs clean out of him until his features look white and totally numb. Obviously it's not something he's been meaning to say to her and he thinks she might be mad although he couldn't be more wrong. Roman's mother sucks a quick sob in and then calms herself before replying very simply,

"Yes son?"

Roman has to hand it to his mother in that she deals with it perfectly and settles the growing storm. Just one sentence and Dean is accepted as in _totally_ accepted without being overwhelmed.

"Uh – I – um – you – uh – forgot the pepper."

"Silly me."

She laughs and then waltzes back across, sliding in close and dropping a hand around his waistline before cinching him in and briefly squeezing him.

 _Mom._

As the tension eases off there is a buzz on the intercom and Roman leans towards it grinning and hits the button,

"Come on up."

Family and food.

Does life get any better?

There's a knock and Dean yells across the room,

" _Pizza's here_."

Roman snorts and moves over to get it but a blur blitzes past as Dean beats him to the punch, practically alive with happy excitement as he swings wide the door –

Then gasps.

"Wha – _no_."

His shout is at once both anxious and panicky but by the time Roman gets there it's already too late. Dean's asshole father – and where the hell did _he_ come from – has reached in and pulled the boy flush towards his chest, an arm around his neck pinning Dean tight against him with something clenched firm in his other hand.

 _Shit._

A knife.

Somewhere behind him, Mama Reigns lets a scream out and the noise _explodes_ around the room. Roman steps forward but the knife finds Dean's windpipe and lays against it in warning,

"You stay where y' are."

 _Fuck._

It's even worse than he realized.

Dean's father is completely and utterly drunk.

Frankly it's a wonder that the man is still _standing_ but he is and he's got Dean in a tight fisted grip. Dean whose eyes are wild with panic and already starting to _quiver_ with tears.

"Let him go."

Roman's voice is a rumble – like the tremor of an earthquake, all threatening and low – but unfortunately it doesn't seem to work on Dean's father who simply snorts and smirks yellow teeth across the room.

"Nah, don' think so. I told ya I'd come get him, he's _my boy_ y' see – he's _my_ boy."

Roman's fists clench up on furious instinct,

"No he's not. Not anymore. You lost that right when you tied him up and put him in the hospital."

" _Shut up, this here is my boy_."

The yell is loud and makes them all jolt a bit but it shocks Dean the most and he whimpers as well, making a hiccuping sound that Roman hasn't ever heard from him and never _ever_ wants to hear him make again. The whole room freezes and silence falls around them, broken only by the heartbreaking sound of Dean's breaths which are tearing out of him fast and ragged. His eyes are on Roman's but he doesn't have the answers.

What the hell do they do next?

"M' gonna take your car."

The statement is a mumble which initially means it's pretty hard to make out, but as comprehension dawns, Roman's answer is defiant and delivered with curled fists,

"The hell you are."

Not that Roman gives a shit about his pickup but there is no earthly _way_ he will let it drive away Dean.

The drunken man twitches.

"Gimme your car asshole."

Roman hackles rise and he narrows his eyes,

"Fuck you."

The Samoan is more pissed than he would ever have thought imaginable only – sadly – on that front, he's not the only one. Dean's father is practically god damn _incandescent_ and being refused something he wants is almost more than he can take. The knife edge twitches and Dean winces in response to it, sucking in a hiss that makes Roman's heart seize up.

 _Crap._

Things are getting increasingly deadly but both men have now come too far to go back. Which is why the sound of a very cheery jingling from somewhere in the background makes them both blink. A set of Mercedes keys flash past Roman's vision and he hears his father's voice both firm and even,

"Take mine."

 _What?_

Roman spins round in unadulterated horror, turning towards his father's unrepentant face.

"Dad – ,"

"It's a black Mercedes, parked up on the corner, I just filled her up so there's a full tank as well."

Dean's father bends and scoops the tossed keys up, smiling in victory though he grumbles as well,

"Don't try to follow us, I'll know it, y' hear me?"

Then he starts dragging Dean back across the threshold, as the teenager's hands scrabble desperately to find a hold, to fight and stop what's going to happen even as he calls out for help,

" _Roman_ – ,"

The yell makes the bigger man move on pure instinct although he finds himself firmly held back by a hand. It's weathered and belongs – without a doubt – to his father who is strong and adamant.

"Let him go son, let him go."

Roman struggles,

"What are you doin' pop? We can't let him take him. We gotta get him out."

Dean's plaintive calls are echoing down the corridor and there's a note like the kid can't figure out why he won't come. Roman struggles harder but his father holds him tightly, cupping his son's face as the elevator doors ping outside.

"Roman, son, we are _going_ to get him, but we can't do anything with that knife at his throat."

"You gave him your car– ,"

Roman's father roughly shakes him, willing him to listen,

"There's a tracker inside."

* * *

 **Yep, I know, Dean's dad is an asshole and for writing him that way, quite possibly so am I, but come on, there has to be a grand finale!**

 **Now Roman just needs to find his little bro, will he?**


	29. Twenty Nine

**Big brother to the rescue in this one maybe? What do you think? Let's find out…**

 **Stingerette1975, Glad you had Roman's dad all figured out. I think that means you know him better than Roman does in that case! Don't you worry, the Big Dog is on the hunt!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Glad you're still enjoying it. This chapter is heavy on the angst and the drama, so I hope you enjoy it (unlike poor Dean, who definitely doesn't!)**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Haha, I didn't really think about having two stories with kidnappings in them running side by side, I look like I'm obsessed now! Oh well! As long as you're still enjoying both!**

 **Guest, I have been known to be a terrible chapter tease in the past, so I certainly have previous. But what's a drama story without some big, ending drama?! Glad you're still liking it!**

 **Mandy, Can you believe we're almost at the end of this crazy story already? Thank you being there every step of the way with it and I'm glad you're still enjoying it the ride!**

 **June3law, Yep, Roman's dad certainly kept his head the best way he knew how for that. But it's not over just yet, they still need to find their unruly teenager and bring him back home!**

 **Jennyb2609, *Waves* I know you've got a long way to go before you hit this point of the story, but when you get here I just want to say thank you for your review and I hope you've enjoyed the rest!**

 **Raze Olympus, Uh oh, looks like I'm going to have to put eyes in the back of my head until this story is over! Not to worry though, we're nearly there, baby Dean's fate is unveiled below!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Yeah, poor Dean is certainly going to go through the wringer here. You are so tuned into him and on point! He totally thinks they've abandoned him in this one. But have they?**

 **HannonsPen, Dean's old man has gone past the point of no return now. Glad you liked the mom stuff too, I liked writing that bit and being all super cute (before the kidnapping nosedive!)**

 **Minnie1015, Ha, I don't believe you, I know you like the drama! But yeah, I figured it was about time Dean whipped out the 'mom card', only seemed fitting to follow it up with total disaster!**

 **Skovko, Scrabble! If every my ninety year old grandma comes over and we run out of things to talk about, then bringing out scrabble works every time, except that she's a stickler for the rules!**

 **Rebel8954, Yep, you've got to get up pretty early in the morning to outsmart Papa Reigns, he's a wily old fox. If I tell you Mama Reigns gets to be ballsy in the sequel, would that work for you?!**

 **Tfan23, Aww, thank you, I wrote and rewrote that chapter a million times but was finally happy with it in the end! I'm glad you love Mama Reigns, she is hands down my favourite to write!**

 **Meanwhile, in Dean's world...**

* * *

 **Twenty Nine.**

For Dean the next few hours are torturous – or maybe it's only minutes, it's difficult to tell. The only thing he does know is that Roman didn't come for him and he is now in deep shit and completely on his own.

On his own and taped up in the trunk of the Mercedes, with his hands behind his back and a thick strip across his mouth. Even his feet have been parcelled together which means he finds it difficult to even kick out. He's watched movies before where people boot the brake lights but he can barely even move –

He is totally trussed up.

Hot tears stream down his face like rivers and his nose is so stuffed up he can hardly even breathe. He snivels and moans behind the duct tape pathetically and it bleeds through the seats so that his father can hear.

"Cryin' boy? I'll give y' somethin' to cry 'bout."

There is a sudden screech of tires and the car swerves violently as somewhere outside another car blasts its horn. Dean is flung hard against the back of the vehicle and it makes him grunt and try to cough behind his gag.

"Piece of shit driver."

His father yells violently, overlooking the irony that the bad driver is him.

On a scale of one to ten in terms of sheer drunkenness, his psychotic old man is probably on a twelve which means his driving is sharp and erratic and bundled up like his is, Dean can do little but pitch and roll. Still, his predicament seems even more painful for one important fact –

Roman hadn't come.

There Dean was being hauled off down the corridor, screaming for him desperately and his big brother hadn't come. The man who had always been there when he'd needed him and saved him from death and yet he hadn't shown up. He must have been able to hear Dean's shouting so why hadn't he come after him?

The question turns his gut.

 _Maybe he saw it as a chance to get rid of you?_

Dean chokes behind the tape strip and shakes his head firmly.

No.

That couldn't be true.

Not after everything.

 _You brought a god damn criminal to his door, no wonder he's decided you're too much of a danger._

More bitter tears squeeze out of him helplessly and he grizzles a little in desolation.

No.

There are still so many things he needs to experience with a family for Roman to up and abandon him now. His birthday next week and Christmas soon after, New Years, Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July –

Events that he has imagined himself actually having for the first time ever.

They can't be all gone.

He tries to kick out and fight his way to freedom but his father slaloms around a corner again and Dean rolls with it and ends up flipped over and stranded face down on his front with a groan.

"Don't you worry boy – you an' me, we'll find a nice place and go on back to the way it always was. Think they can tell me I ain't fit to raise my own child? I'll fuckin' show 'em – do what I want."

 _Roman._

Dean's weary brain half screams the word out and then repeats it like a back beat on every pound of his heart.

Roman will get him.

But what if he doesn't?

What if he's stuck in his old life again?

The air in the back of the trunk is musty and combined with his frantic panic-driven breathing is growing staler by the minute as the oxygen gets sucked up. Dean feels dizzy and his narrowed vision is spotty and being lit up by bright flashes that perforate the dark.

"Fuckin' kid, causin' all this trouble, shoulda fuckin' just upped and done the job right, not like any folk would've even missed ya before that big fuckin' asshole came along."

Dean's heart clenches in instinct.

Roman.

Dean's father is saying that Roman _cares_ and if he can see it then surely it must be true rather than something Dean just thought he might have had.

"Sittin' up there all pretty with their money and damn fancy cars and their – fuck – _learn to drive_ – ,"

Dean has no idea where they're going and he's not even sure if his father really does. He can't even tell which direction they're going or if they're heading for a place or the edge of a cliff.

Briefly – weirdly – he thinks about his mother and suddenly it's like he can see her again. All crimped red hair and the same dimples that he has although she never had much cause to show them in life. He wonders if she's happier now in wherever or if she ever sometimes misses them or thinks about him. Because – true – she was never a cuddly mother but he got the sense at least that she cared a little bit and she would sometimes refer to him as _a good kid_ which had made him feel warm.

But she wasn't Mama Reigns.

Mama Reigns is all cuddles and genuine affection which she has never yet once been afraid to show. Probably where Roman gets the whole touchy-feely thing and – god – he misses that so damn much. Misses the way that whenever he is nervous there is always someone to tousle his hair, or put a comforting hand on his shoulder or pull him into a bone-crushing hug.

More tears fall out and he chokes on all the moisture as it pours down his face and marches down his throat.

"M' warnin' you boy."

But Dean simply can't stop it and so continues to cry, taped up in the car.

When they finally stop the world seems much quieter and the road surface seems to sort of crunch beneath the tread. The sounds of the city have faded away from them and there is none of the bustle that there usually is.

Dean's wrists are raw from having tried to twist loose somehow, but all he's managed to do is roll the tape up, turning it from a flat sticky surface into a thin but tough wire which digs into his skin. It marks the same spot where the garden twine had done several months earlier and makes him shudder again. There's a creak of a door and then the driver's side slams shut followed by the crunch of footsteps on loose stones. It lumbers towards the trunk and Dean gulps audibly but then tapers off and wanders away,

"Leave you in there to think 'bout what you've done boy, that'll straighten you out."

Dean blinks.

What _he's_ done?

He kicks up his feet and boots at the trunk hatch, but he's awkwardly angled and barely has strength. He's sweaty, exhausted, terrified and tear-slicked and every last bone in his body seems to hurt. He yearns for the comfort of his bedroom back at Roman's or even the room back at Mom and Pop Reigns' house. Spaces that were his and had his minimal amounts of stuff in and where people would come running whenever he cried out. He even misses all of Roman's sisters and their endless screaming hordes because at least they're all love.

Here there is nothing and he has nobody and that seeps into his chest and blooms like a wound.

 _No one._

 _No one._

 _No one is coming._

For a while he falls asleep or – more likely – passes out.

When he wakes up however there are noises like tires, once again rumbling over the loose stones. Instantly he assumes that maybe they're back moving but then slowly realizes that the car is still turned off, which means somebody else is driving up to them and so Dean mumbles and tries to kick his feet up again hard.

 _I'm here, please find me._

But it saps the strength out of him and makes him feel dizzy as he drags quick breaths in too fast. There's a scuffling off feet and then the sounds of his father sounding angry and alarmed,

"How the fuck did you – _oof_."

There's a sharp sounding smack and then a deep throated rumble that Dean's whistling ears unhelpfully tune out.

He can identify words though –

 _Ever again._

 _Touch him._

 _Dead man._

He blinks.

The voice is familiar somehow.

Then there is a second sound of skin hitting knuckles which Dean knows almost instinctively from a lifetime of getting hit. It is accompanied by a final earth splitting bellow that even rocks the trunk of the car where he's been dumped.

"Where is he?"

Roman?

Dean's heart flips clean over but it can't be because that isn't how it works –

Except it is when it comes to the Big Dog because that's what Roman does.

Roman always saves his ass.

There is a sudden rush of footsteps marching in closer and Dean almost forgets to breathe in suspense. Keys jingle near him and then scratch into the trunk lock and there's a heavy thunk of bolts and then the hatch is levered up. Moonlight and some nearby orange lighting shine in on him and half-blind his blackness adjusted eyes until he blinks. Standing above him is a large and bulky figure, silhouetted against the brightness, features lost in the dark. There is an exhale of breath and then rough hands fall down on him and Dean sort of flinches and then whimpers beneath the tape.

"Easy uce, easy, I've got you."

Warmth floods through him.

It is Roman.

It _is_.

More tears tumble out and streak down his cheekbones and he chokes out a sob beneath the strip of sticky tape. As his eyes become accustomed he can see Roman's expression and he looks completely heartbroken at seeing him like this, which – frankly – in itself is just so damn _Roman_ as to be a really good thing.

As warped as that is.

The big hands slide in and pillow his cheek gently, lifting up his head as Roman peels off the tape. While he's doing that, hands are working on Dean's ankles and unwinding the wrapping that is securing them in place. Dean doesn't need to know they're Papa Reigns' broad hands.

He already does.

He just – he just knows.

His mouth comes free with a sudden blast of freshness and he gasps at the sensation as the air assaults his damp face.

"Ro – Roman – ,"

"Sssh, easy, we've got you."

"My – my dad, he's – ,"

"Don't worry about him, he's not going to hurt you."

"H-how do you know?"

"Because I knocked his ass out."

With the words sort of buzzing around Dean's system – knocked him out, as in unconscious, the way _he_ was before – Roman leans in and helps him sit upright and as soon as he's up he sweeps fingers through Dean's hair, ruffling it with that much longed for familiarly and then pulling his skull in to press forehead to forehead,

"I thought – I thought you were going to let him take me."

Dean's voice is a whisper and Roman pulls him closer while leaning across to free his tied hands up,

"I know, I know you did."

"How did you find us?"

"Dad's car has a tracker, that's why he let him have the keys."

"You followed us?"

"Uh huh. Would've never let him take you. _Never_ , you hear me? Just couldn't risk it with that knife."

At about the same moment that Papa Reigns gets his legs free, Roman unravels the tape from his hands and Dean scrambles upright – or, well, onto his knees at any rate – and launches himself like a dart at Roman's chest. It knocks the big man backwards a little and he chuckles but the arms fold back quickly around and then hold him in close.

"M' sorry I didn't believe you were comin',"

Roman snorts,

"It's alright uce, you must have been pretty scared."

"You always come," Dean murmurs, not answering the question but saying what he feels instead needs to be said, "You always come through for me, always, always."

Roman tousles his hair,

"An' I always will kid."

A hand arrives on his shoulder in comfort by care of Papa Reigns as Dean breaks down and sobs, partly because he's been kidnapped at knifepoint but most of all because he is now safe and loved. His family have come and rescued him from danger.

 _Dean's_ family.

Roman shushes him,

"It's okay, you're safe uce."

* * *

 **Okay, so I know a lot of you have been waiting for Dean's dad to be beaten into next week, but I made the decision not to do it in front of Dean because he's already seen enough violence and probably doesn't want to see his squeaky new brother making anyone bloody.**

 **But Roman** _ **did**_ **knock his ass out, believe that!**

 **Only two chapters left now, time to find out how Mama Reigns reacts to all this...**


	30. Thirty

**Let's start to wrap this baby up then (so we can get started on the sequel...oh yes I did!)**

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Haha, you wouldn't be the first to want Mama Reigns to go all Kill Bill on him! Would it help if I told you she had a kickass moment in the sequel?!**

 **Mandy, Roman to the rescue like always. No matter what AU he's in, he's always there wearing his big cape! Mama Reigns is here in his chapter and cute and maternal as she ever is!**

 **Sodapop25, Glad you liked it, we're nearly at the end now, so a massive thanks for sticking this out with me and seeing it right the way through, only one more chapter after this one!**

 **Raze Olympus, Thank you for calling the hit off *kisses feet in gratitude* glad you're still loving this crazy ride and I hope you stick around for the sequel too, because there's more drama to come!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Aww, sorry, I didn't mean to put both you and Dean through the wringer with your emotions there! But yeah, poor Dean will need a psychiatrist for life after that, whoops!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Yay, glad you liked the big dramatic climax to all of this! Now we need to get back to the family vibes and give Dean a happy little send-off, am I right?!**

 **Tfan23, Aww, well, you're brother sounds amazing if he reminds you of Roman, since we all know Roman is actually superman! Don't worry about the end, I have written a sequel (yes, I'm mad!)**

 **Minnie1015, Thank you! It just didn't feel right Roman going all medieval, with poor beaten up teen Dean looking on. Glad you think I made the right call and even more glad you liked it!**

 **FreakinLunaticsYard, Oooh, wow, what lovely comments, thank you. I'm glad that you felt such a connection with the characters, but feel guilty that they sometimes made you cry too, sorry!**

 **HannonsPen *collects pieces of your broken heart and hands them back* Um, here? I know, I really put Dean through it in that last chapter, so he deserves Mama Reigns hugs now, right?!**

 **Stingerette1975, There's a psychiatrist out there who will be getting a lot of money from my poor teenage Dean, but at least he has his new family to support him, take that Dean's dad!**

 **Skovko, It wouldn't be Roman to be out and out murderous and especially knowing how scarred Dean is. He doesn't want to be anything like him, but he's too much of a teddy bear for that anyway!**

 **Penultimate chapter then...**

* * *

 **Thirty.**

Someone in the police department finds him a blanket because he can't stop shivering no matter how hard he tries. _Shock_ he's told by the medic on duty as she's wrapping big white bandages around his tattered wrists again.

They put him in a side room – which is a good thing since he's shaking like a leaf and it's making him look drunk – and Roman doesn't leave his side for a heartbeat which is also good because at this point in Dean's sad existence he doesn't think he can cope with the big man stepping off from him for even a second.

Big old comfort blanket that he is.

His father is dragged off into the holding cells clutching a bloody and very badly busted nose and screaming obscenities at anything around him including a poster pinned up on the wall. He swears death on Dean about once every second and although it shudders through him it doesn't hurt so bad because Roman is there with an arm tucked around him and there's no way his father is busting through that.

Words.

They're just words now and that's all they'll ever be because his old man is going to be properly locked away and for what one officer describes with a stern face as being _a sizeable amount of time too_. Of course as far as Dean is concerned then _a sizeable amount of time_ means the rest of his life although frankly even if it's only as little as five years that's still long enough for Dean to bulk up, to work out and pile on enough rippling muscles that his father won't ever dare come at him again.

Even if he does though, Roman will still be there and that's a real comfort.

He's not going anywhere.

Roman's father is outside making phone calls to Titus predominantly but also to Roman's mom who comes flying in about half an hour later with terror on her face and tears in her eyes. She swiftly bowls aside the crouching physician and even her own son to sweep Dean into her arms and he drops his head against her shoulder and starts to cry again.

But only because she is.

Although maybe he starts first.

"Baby," Mama Reigns breathes into his neckline, doing the hair tousling scrunching deal he likes, "Thank goodness you're alright, oh, I was so worried – what happened to your wrists?"

Dean swallows and looks down, hating the fact that he might have to say it because even the damn memoryphysically hurts.

"He didn't want him escaping," Roman answers quietly and fairly indirectly although it still works. Mama Reigns gasps and then pulls him in close again, rocking him side to side,

"My poor baby."

"M' okay mom."

This time when he says it, the name comes out more readily and feels both warm and natural on his tongue. Mama Reigns – _his_ mama – tightens her grip again and palms his hair back fiercely while Roman merely grins, not caring at all for Dean claiming his mother.

Because he's _Roman_ and he's brilliant.

Of course he doesn't mind.

Titus arrives another half hour later, appearing slightly sleep-dulled but by no means less smart. Dean even wonders if he goes to bed in his blazers although it doesn't look wrinkled so probably not. Having him there though means handing over all the legal stuff and so in the end the only thing Dean has left to do is make a formal statement –

Which is no easy task.

It's bad enough just thinking about what happened let alone telling a stranger what went down. Then there's the fact that the cops have to clear the interview room because there are Reigns' almost everywhere all trying to sit in on it at once.

Titus offers to stay and walk him through it but – as expected – it's Roman that gets the nod, pulling up a chair beside his little brother and keeping him calm as he relates his sorry tale.

Not that Roman doesn't get angry – Dean feels the heat radiating up off him at parts of it and can see the Big Dog's fists clenching something fierce – but that's okay because he's angry _for_ him and that only happens when someone cares about you.

They're not the same fists that his father uses on him.

Or _used_ to use on him.

Not anymore.

Despite that though the experience is still draining and by the time he's finished and answered all the questions he feels physically exhausted, emotionally numbed and damn sore. All he wants is his quilt and his bedroom and he blinks across at Roman,

"Can we go home now?"

Roman looks up and raises brows at the officer, who nods by way of answer

"Sure thing uce, sure thing."

They let him keep the blanket – which is nice since he's still shivering – and somehow Titus has had the bail money set high, meaning Dean's father won't be able to see daylight until it's streaming through the courtroom windows into his eyes.

It also means that Dean can sleep easy – short of a jailbreak – which is obviously the point and as they stand outside the police station in the darkness, the lawyer steps in and gives Dean a brief hug, managing to make it seem fleeting yet manly while still conveying fondness,

"Thanks Titus,"

"No problem kid."

By the time he is allowed to get back into the pickup, Dean essentially folds down onto the seats. Roman's parents pile in with them – since Papa Reigns' town car is now a crime scene – and they make the long drive back to their house in the suburbs where there's a brief conversation about the two of them coming in, forgetting about their apartment all together and spending the night in the family home. Dean is lightly dozing and so although he hears it happen, he misses the outcome and doesn't get to have a say. His eyes flutter lightly though when a hand brushes over him and lips duck in and place a kiss against his hair,

"Night baby,"

"G' night mom."

Papa Reigns clasps his shoulder and gives it a squeeze,

"Sleep tight son."

"I w'll dad."

If he'd been more awake then the second one may have thrown him and he probably would never have flashed the _dad_ card like that, but through his addled and barely conscious vision he makes out the older man smiling nonetheless and the fingers that are holding him clench even tighter and hang on fiercely like he's trying to absorb him whole.

Mom and Dad.

He'll use those from now on.

Then Roman slams the door and he fades away again.

This time his sleep is infinity deeper and he wakes with a start to Roman shaking his arm.

"Uce? We're home, think you can walk for me?"

Dean grumbles,

"Nuh – walk?"

Roman chuckles,

"Yeah, on your feet."

He can but only barely and sort of slithers from the pickup forcing Roman to brace him pretty firmly against his side.

"Whoa."

They make it though – into the elevator and along the corridor – and then stumble across the threshold of their warm apartment where the salad is still wilting on the table with the drinks. Not that Dean really notices dinner considering he's so exhausted he can barely think straight.

What he wants is his bed and as it rises up to meet him he topples onto the mattress with a deep and happy groan, lying face down as Roman pulls his shoes off and then manoeuvres him round to flap the covers over the top.

"Mmmm, that's nice."

The mattress dips beside him as Roman takes a seat and then brushes off Dean's bangs, snorting a little at the sleepy noises of ecstasy and letting several long hours of pent up tension blow out.

"Good to have you home uce."

"Mmhmm, good t' _be_ h'me."

Dean's eyes are closed and he can feel himself slipping down.

There's a mask of blackness falling in across his vision so that even the glow of the down lights in the living room are completely and utterly sucked into the void and although at first it feels lulling and soothing it reminds him suddenly of the trunk and he jumps.

"Hey – ," Roman's there in less than a second, knowing the issue and placing a hand over his chest, "It's okay, it's over, you're not shut in anywhere, you're safe in your bed, go to sleep uce."

Dean furrows his brows,

"Where're you goin'?"

Roman smiles,

"Next door okay, I'm gonna be right next door."

But despite that he stays until Dean slips under because the last thing he's aware of is the deep depression on the bed which stays by his side but is gone when he wakes again, screaming his head off at about four a.m.

"Roman? _Roman_?"

He appears in the doorway frantic and dishevelled but also sleep-fogged,

"What's wrong?"

Dean is sitting up in bed panting, with his hands slick with sweat and his senses in terror overload. The dream is still vivid as is the face of his father and the malice it contains which sends a shiver down his bones.

"My dad – my dad – ,"

"Hey, your dad is _my_ dad, remember?" Roman soothes him, taking his post on the bed edge again.

Dean blinks.

Papa Reigns.

Papa Reigns is his father now.

He takes in a deep breath and his nightmare image fades, instead being replaced with visions of the Reigns', baking cakes, hosting dinners and smiling at him.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Dean nods wearily, "Thanks uce."

Roman snorts,

"That's what older brothers are there for, right?"

Above him a big hand falls down to mess his hair up and then sweep it from his eyes in a pattern of love and Roman hums a little in amusement but also in contentment as Dean agrees with him,

"Right."

* * *

 **Alrighty then folks, just one more chapter, so I'll see you again in two days time and I will also add information about the sequel at the end, in case any of you want to follow this craziness on!**

 **See you there.**


	31. Thirty One

**Well then, here we go for the final time with this story and firstly a big thanks to everyone reading and particularly to everyone who has left a review (or 31 of them!) I am blown away by the support and love. You are all wonderful! Sequel details below!**

 **Guest, 'For the most part' is a good way of describing how Dean is, but his squeaky new family will get him through the trauma and love him to pieces. Thank you so much for your reviews!**

 **Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thank you and thank you so much for reviewing, it's always so gratifying to see the review counter ticking! Hope you'll tune in for the sequel too, this isn't the end!**

 **Mandy, Here you go girl! Final installment and as ever, thank you so much for being there every chapter, especially when I'm posting like mad! See you at the sequel I hope! *Hugs***

 **xXBalorBabeXx, Yep, Mama and Papa Reigns are officially 'mom and dad' now and they are very happy about that fact! Thank you so much for your lovely reviews. See you at the sequel?!**

 **Minnie1015, Yep, a sequel I couldn't help myself! I decided there were still a few loose ends to explore, so we're doing it again! Thank you for all your amazing reviews you lovely person you!**

 **SkittlezLvr79, Well, if Dean doesn't believe they care, then maybe this final chapter will help! Also, thank you so much for your reviews, they're always so detailed and fun to read, I love them!**

 **Skovko, I feel like Roman is a guy that doesn't say things often, but when he does it's perfectly thought out! So, here we are again! Thank you sooo much for reviewing. See you at the next one?!**

 **Tfan23, Yay! I'm so glad you're going to be tuning in for the sequel (maybe I should have left it little longer but I couldn't help myself!) Thank you so much for reviewing, it means a lot to me!**

 **HannonsPen, Always happy to be a guilty pleasure! See? Now that's why I wrote a sequel, for loose ends (some of them) Thank you so much for your reviews, they always make me smile!**

 **Let's wrap this baby up then!**

* * *

 **Thirty One.**

Dean's birthday comes and then goes a few days later but isn't really kept with any revelry or flare. Thanks to the whole knifepoint-kidnapping debacle there is still a whole lot of legal stuff to sort out, particularly for Papa Reigns and Titus who are putting in the man hours building up a case. Dean would be happy with his asshole of a father – his _former_ father since he has a new one now – simply being thrown in jail and left to rot there.

But, evidently that's not how it works.

Instead they are pushing for a full-on trial with witnesses and juries and all of that deal. Possibly it means that Dean will have to testify and they sit him down and explain about that, but – as he tells them – he did it for emancipation and if he has to then he will just do it all again.

"Good man," Papa Reigns smiles, squeezing his shoulder and glowing with pride, "That's my boy."

For his birthday itself there is a meal at a restaurant but not a super fancy one since there's a bowling alley attached. All of Roman's family are there in attendance – including little kids – and the gym staff come too, which allows Roman's father to see them all together and how much they care for one another and get on and have fun.

 _Second family._

Dean spends the entire day grinning which only broadens wider as the presents are brought out. Mostly he's still a little awkward about getting things because he's spent so many long empty years without and because his father repeated the word _worthless_ enough times for Dean to feel that he must have had a point. People parting with their hard-earned money for him is as touching as it is pretty darn weird. Still, he's grateful – like – stupidly grateful because people care.

They care about _him_ for once.

The guys at the gym all club in together and buy a leather jacket with stripes on the arms. It fits like a glove and he feels a million bucks in it although has to fend off teasing about being _James_ Dean. Roman's sisters have bought him a ton of gift certificates – for video games and clothing and anything else that he might need – while Mom and Pop Reigns have bought him a cell phone so that he can call them when he's in trouble or any other time in between.

"We want you to be safe honey," Mama Reigns coos at him, stroking his hair as he blinks at the cell, "It's top of the range so you can call us from anywhere and we've put our numbers in there as well."

Dean shakes his head.

"It – it's too much, I can't take it."

Papa Reigns cuts him off with a smile.

"Yes you can."

But compared to Roman's gift the phone seems minimal because Roman buys him a fucking laptop.

"For your business work uce, so you don't have to keep scrawlin' on torn bits of paper."

"Roman, I – ,"

"Don't say _you can't_ to me, alright? You need it and you sure as hell deserve it."

"O-kay, then – thanks uce."

Roman grins,

"Plus I bought it months ago, so I'm pretty damn sure the returns policy's run out."

They put it on the built-in desk in Dean's bedroom and some days he even takes it along to work too, sitting on the comfortable couch in Roman's office and jotting down ideas and other gym-related stuff. Because that's something else that's coming on better now –

The gym is actually starting to do well.

Their membership is higher than potentially it has ever been and they're expanding their range of classes and putting the word out. People now seem to _know_ there's a gym there and that it's friendly and has a community vibe. Roman even talks about hiring new staff on and asks Dean to sit in on interviews once applications go out out. They're still receiving résumés by the time they get to Christmas and –

Christmas.

Dean can barely believe it's here.

The first week after his birthday he starts plotting presents because he wants to get everyone pretty much the perfect gift. The problem is – however – that he's never bought gifts before because he never had the money or anyone to buy them for.

Roman helps on some of it – perfumes that his sisters like, or things to buy their kids – but a lot Dean does himself, window-shopping for hours on the weekends or trying to squeeze facts out of people on the fly. When he does buy things he buys them with his bank card which is about the biggest living thrill in the world, then he creeps home and hides them beneath his dresser in case Roman comes across them or maybe even their mom. He wraps them himself too although that takes him forever and he can hear Roman laughing from somewhere in the living room whenever he curses or gets the tape all tangled which he does pretty often because it's actually _hard_. The finished outcome doesn't look too professional but is a worthy first attempt and so Dean still feels pretty proud.

Even so, he's nervous as hell about them and so dips his toe in with Truth and Sasha first. For his mentor he has bought a thickset necklace with a cross on it, since he knows that Truth is a religious sort of guy. Sasha has sunglasses – purple to match her hair color – with diamante studs stuck around the outside. He gives them over in a torrent of teenage awkwardness, practically stubbing his damn toe into the ground while Roman – damn him – chuckles behind him and tries to not find the whole thing funny as hell. On the plus side though, both guys love their presents, or at least they certainly say they do. Sasha even gives him a kiss on the cheek for it and the whole thing gives him confidence going into Christmas to give the rest of his gift horde out too.

It's set to be a real family holiday which is evidenced by their summons to the Reigns' household the night before. There's a car on the driveway when he and Roman pull into it and Dean's eyes light up.

"Wow, who owns that?"

Roman merely shrugs at him,

"A cousin or somethin' probably, why, you like it?"

"Um, _yeah_."

Ever since turning sixteen a few weeks earlier, Dean's thoughts have been preoccupied with learning how to drive. Roman has already promised to teach him so that's not a problem. But Dean doesn't own a car. Once Christmas is over though, that's next on his hitlist although the car on the driveway is pretty much his ideal buy. It's a classic Mustang in red – like it should be – and looking pretty damn neat for being thirty years old. It's sleek and shiny and the lines are like catnip.

Whoever owns that car is a very lucky man.

The house itself is packed with relations including Roman's sisters, husbands and all of their kids, as well as new aunties, uncles and cousins. There's even an ancient and spindly old grandmother who is sharp is tack and funny as hell. The whole house feels rammed and it makes him kind of panicky because honestly, out of all of them, he really sticks out. Mama Reigns knows though and makes him kitchen helper, which means he is rescued from the more curious stares,

"Honey, can you come and help me with the gravy? I need you to pour while I stir."

Thank god.

Towards the end of the evening they all turn out again – the entire family – to attend midnight mass. Dean has barely ever even been to church before so expects that it will be boring as hell, but instead there are songs and candles and festivity so it's nice.

A fitting way to end the day.

By the time he folds into bed he's exhausted as – apparently – so is Roman as well who's down once again on the squeaky blow-up single, since his own teenage room has been given to a relative and frankly there's very little other space to be had. Dean's just lucky to have scored his old bed back which he only thinks he has because it's his first Christmas there. Still it's better than being on the fold-out so he thanks his lucky stars for _everything_.

This Christmas – he can feel – is going to be a good one and he's so damn excited that he can hardly wait. He wakes up very early the next morning to give Roman his present without the added pressure of eight thousand eyes, knowing that it's probably the most important gift he has ever given and frankly desperate to have gotten it right. Not that Roman would ever be anything less than delighted by whatever was eventually offered across but for Dean it is a monumental moment which is why he dispenses with the preamble,

"Uh, here."

It isn't a very big or terribly well wrapped present and of everything thing Dean has bought, it's the one that worries him the most because it doesn't really seem especially fancy or expensive, mostly because –

Well, because it's _not_.

It's a photo frame – in black to match the apartment décor – with a photo of the two of them inside. It was taken on the day Dean received emancipation and shows them leant back on the porch steps out front. Roman has an arm slung over Dean's shoulders and he in return is sort of leaning into him, tucking in underneath Roman's broad shoulder and grinning big and wide.

It's a pretty nice photo and Dean really likes it.

He just hopes that Roman will as well.

It's an idea he had run past Mama Reigns a few weeks earlier and she had positively loved the plan. Although naturally of course now that it's Christmas, Dean is suddenly a lot less confident about the thing which he broaches as Roman peels off the paper with a frown on his brow,

"Uh, it's not – like – super impressive or anythin' an' I'm sorry it's not sorta _bigger_ y' know?"

He winces as the gift is revealed in its entirety although Roman simply gapes and then grins at him,

"Uce – ,"

"Yeah, I know, it's not very good but – ,"

"What are you talkin' about? It's amazing."

Dean blinks mildly,

"Um, you really mean that, or – ,"

Roman drags him close into a hug which instantly shuts out any hesitation and makes Dean beam.

"I really mean that."

By the time they make it down to breakfast Mama Reigns is already up and at work along with every other woman in the household who has risen on some strange biological Christmas clock. There are pies and meats and about twelve types of vegetable already cooking for the big feast at lunch and desserts of all shapes and sizes sit on the table waiting for their turn at going into the oven to bake. Everyone is happy and smiling and laughing and it feels like a dream to be surrounded by it all. Full of love like he always hoped would be the feeling and which grows as they all start to gather around the tree. There are relatives perched on every spare surface and people squeezed almost five abreast on the couch, Roman's grandmother even is on the floor _cross-legged_ but despite his amazement no else seems aghast.

Roman sees him gaping open-mouthed and her and whispers a word with a wink,

"Yoga."

Despite the fact it's his very first Christmas there, everyone seems to have brought him a gift, ranging from video games, socks and confectionary through to books and even some aftershave. It's pretty overwhelming but he manages to thank them all and then waits with bated breath for Mom and Pop to open theirs, which comprises of a scarf dotted with cakes for Roman's mother to add to her collection and a silver pen for him, which has the word _dad_ engraved along the stem in delicate scrollwork and is from he and Roman both.

"Dean's idea though," Roman adds in quickly as his father studies it with delight in his eyes and Dean squirms and tries to protest that point a little before Papa Reigns looks up and smiles at him,

"The perfect gift."

At some point someone goes off to get eggnog and others drift back into the kitchen to cook, which instantly takes away some of the tension and Dean breathes a sigh out.

Thank goodness that's done.

"Dean, honey?" Mama Reigns calls out to him, standing juggling a sack of wrapping paper shreds, "Can I get a hand with the door?"

He's standing before she's even finished asking and then follows her to take the lid off the trash. Roman is standing in the cold flanked by his father and Dean frowns at them and stops, confused.

"Uh, what's goin' on?"

"We've still got one more present."

Dean blinks at him,

"You do? Who for?"

"That would be you uce."

Behind him, Mama Reigns deposits the wrapping scraps and then moves in gently and forces him to walk. He goes with her blindly as she leads him past the other two before stopping beside a parked up car. It's the sleek red mustang and Dean's eyes fall across it and stay there in admiration.

Papa Reigns snorts,

"A beauty, huh?"

"Uh huh," Dean nods, holding back the urge to touch it and run his fingers across the paintwork.

"Want to take her out?"

"I – what?"

He looks up sharply, blinking towards his new father like he's crazy and catching sight of Roman standing just behind him, smiling widely and nodding his head. There is something hanging from his older brother's fingers and they look like –

 _No way._

Car keys.

"It's yours."

For a second there is nothing outside but loud silence as Dean sort of goldfishes his mouth up and down. He looks between all three of them, waiting for the shoe to drop but it doesn't and they're serious.

They bought him a car _._

Surging forward he knocks into Roman's father – _his_ father now – and then draws him arms around. The older man chuckles then returns the hug fondly before ruffling his hair.

"Thanks dad."

"You're welcome son."

Behind him both Roman and his mother are grinning and Dean beams back from within Papa Reigns' arms, feeling loved and secure and treasured and _happy_.

Finally he belongs.

He's a part of a team now.

* * *

 **There you have it, the end of this long saga, which came from a tiny little idea I had and blew up into a mega story! Thank you all for having been a part of it.**

 **Now, the sequel…**

 **It is going to be called (imaginatively)** _ **Little Brother 2**_ **and I'll start posting it a week from now (so I can get a headstart on editing the thing) Hope to see you all there for further adventures and brotherly feelings.**

 **Until then everyone!**


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